


A Change of Key

by Rod



Series: Miami Knights [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), CSI: Miami, Glee
Genre: Gen, I have no shame when it comes to music, M/M, Magic, Original Character(s), Sectionals, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21598879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rod/pseuds/Rod
Summary: A bunch of Slayers take part in a singing competition.  What could possibly go wrong?Shut up, Tyler.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Rachel Berry/Finn Hudson, Tyler Jenson/Tim Speedle
Series: Miami Knights [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/919962
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. This should surprise no one.
> 
> The timeline is very roughly third season Glee, but don't take that as gospel. I've warped things where it was convenient for me, so just pay attention and assume I'm right, OK? Blaine is at McKinley, Sebastian is at Dalton, Dave Karofsky has changed schools... that's basically it. Sectionals isn't going to look much like you might remember it.

"OK kids, that's enough for today," Tyler Jensen said. He clapped his hands to get the attention of his hyperactive Slayers. "Who wants to find out who we're up against at Sectionals?"

"I can't believe we're going to Sectionals!" Chrissie squealed.

Pippa gave the shorter Slayer a scornful look. "It just means we've enough people to be a full choir," she said. "Now getting to Regionals, that'll be an achievement."

Tyler kept a smile on his face. Truth be told, he didn't reckon the Summertime Sisters had much chance of making Regionals. It was the first year that the _Joyce Summers Academy for Girls_ was fielding a choir, the girls only had a vague idea of what it was all about, and Tyler himself had no experience as a choir trainer. Oh, he could show the Slayers a thing or two about projection and the choreography was a walk in the park, but beyond that he had no clue. They had all been winging it when it came to arranging songs. Then again, winging it was pretty much S.O.P. for Slayers.

"OK, settle down," Tyler said, flourishing the envelope and making a production out of opening it. "We are up against... New Directions, Sweet Sixteen and the Dalton Academy Warblers!" A hard group, he thought. Maybe it would do the girls good to come up against something physical they weren't supernaturally the best at.

"They'll be no match for us," Bella said confidently, flicking her blond hair out of her face. She was the diva of the group, always lobbying for the solos and pitching a fit if a vampire dared to get dust on her designer tops. Annoyingly she was also the best singer.

Pippa pulled out another scornful look, which was par for the course with her. "New Directions and the Warblers were both serious contenders at Regionals last year," she said. Tyler wasn't surprised that she had done her homework. Pippa took music very seriously and regarded slaying as an unfortunate distraction from her future career. It irritated her no end to have to play second to Bella. Principal Wood had muttered something about "Buffy and Faith all over again" that Faith had taken exception to.

"Who are the others?" Marnie asked.

"Sweet Sixteen, right?" Berta added. Tyler tried not to smile. The two girls were a double act, having apparently bonded the moment they met. They were the dynamic dancers of the group, and Tyler was quietly encouraging them to come up with their own choreography. He had never expected to use the performing arts part of his degree again once he had retrained as a computer tech, and getting to exercise his dance skills was something he was intensely grateful for.

"They're new," he said, "from Fairmont Academy, an all-girl school just outside Lima."

"Fairmont?" Giselle looked by turns surprised and wistful. "My parents had a place reserved for me there. If I hadn't been a Slayer..."

Chrissie gave her a hug. "It's OK," she said, "we love you anyway." Giselle gave her a sideways look but leaned into the hug. It was impossible to stay mad at Chrissie.

Pippa was frowning again. "One set of girls, one set of boys and a mixed choir," she thought out loud. "We should emphasise our high ranges, show up what the Warblers don't have."

Tyler nodded. "I want you and Bella to work on the diva parts of your solos. Don't overdo the ornamentation, purity and power is what we want. The rest of you, get your dance moves down solid. Treat them like kata. When you're on stage I want the moves to be automatic so you can concentrate on the rest of your performance." The great thing about training Slayers as far as Tyler was concerned was that they were in amazing physical condition and could cope with any dance moves he threw at them. However, with very few exceptions they had no idea how to use those moves to express their emotions. He was still fighting an uphill battle over that.

The girls swirled off, chattering excitedly to each other about the upcoming competition. They passed Tim on his way in, presumably to remind Tyler that they were on this evening's patrol rota. It was good timing, Tyler thought, and waved him over to the piano where their reluctant accompanist Robert Johnson was packing up.

"What's got the girls all stirred up?" Tim asked.

"We found out who our competition at Sectionals will be," Tyler told him. "It's a tough group."

"And show choir isn't something the whole Slayer package is much help with," Tim mused. "That's going to be a bit of a shock to some of the girls."

"Well, it's your problem now," Robert said with satisfaction. "They will need to practice against the backing track, so I can go back to trying to force American History into closed minds."

Robert was the nearest thing to an old-school Watcher in Cleveland, and he played the part with relish. Tyler wasn't buying it. Robert was only a couple of years older than him and handsome with it, and Tyler reckoned he put on the stand-offish act to keep the girls a safe distance away. Certainly he played pop music from skimpy notes far too easily for someone who kept complaining that he was trained in "classical music, not this rubbish."

"I'd have thought you would have been keen to stay on and push a little more culture onto the girls, with all that noble lineage of yours," Tyler teased.

Robert rolled his eyes. "My family may have made the sacrifice of leaving Britain a century and a half ago, but we were hardly nobility even then. As for culture, I fear for the younger generation if this is their idea of culture." He paused, considering something. "It would explain a great deal about my nephew."

"Oh?"

"After he graduated, I offered to get him an interview here," Robert sighed.

"I take it even the flocks of pretty young Slayers didn't sway him?" Tim asked.

"He said, and I quote, 'Lol.'" Robert looked like he'd just bitten a lemon. "Seriously. I'd never heard anyone say that non-ironically before."

"OK," Tyler said, "that's, uh..." He'd never heard anyone say that non-ironically either.

"Apparently a philosophy degree does not equip you to communicate in English," Robert continued. "Though he did play hockey too, perhaps I can blame it on concussion. At any rate he decided to become the PA for some internet artist because it's safer than being a secondary character in our genre, whatever that's supposed to mean."

"I suppose he's got a point," Tim mused. "It's not like field watchers traditionally lived long enough to retire."

"And on that cheerful note I'll leave you to it," Robert said, picking up his briefcase. "Have fun in Lima."

"Not so fast, Robbie," Tyler told him. The nickname earned him a glare as usual. "You're tapped for chaperone duties on competition day."

Robert wilted. "Can't you handle them on your own?" he whined.

"Because one adult to over a dozen Slayers is such a good ratio," Tim observed wryly.

"Right," Tyler agreed. "This way we can take the Slay Wagon and two cars, and have plenty of room for everyone." The Slay Wagon was what the school's non-descript minivan was affectionately known as. It had been tricked out with hiding places for all the essentials of a night's slaying: stakes, holy water, assorted medieval weaponry, changes of clothing and make-up repair kits.

"Wait, two cars?" Tim asked after a beat.

Robert smiled thinly. "Three adults is better than two. Also, misery loves company."

"Robin signed off on it this morning," Tyler said. He grinned broadly. "We're all taking a day trip to Lima." Tim grimaced at him, as if he wouldn't have come anyway to see Tyler's girls in action.

"What sort of trouble are you expecting?" Robert asked. He was looking mildly suspicious now.

"Nothing, honestly," Tyler said, raising his hands defensively. "We're going to a show choir competition, that's all. No demons, magic or anything, just singing and teenage egos."

Robert groaned and Tim put his head in his hands. "You just jinxed us, you realise that?" Tim said, his voice muffled.

"I'll load for major demonic invasion, then," Robert added.

"You have no faith," Tyler told them. "No faith at all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Robert's nephew is indeed Johnson the Metaphysical Goalie from [Check Please!](https://checkpleasecomic.com/) Because why not?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's run-through time, and all does not go smoothly.

"Are we nearly there?"

"The next person to say that is getting out and walking," Tyler said. It was a hollow threat, as he promptly proved by turning the Slay Wagon into the William McKinley High School parking lot. That wouldn't stop him making the next joker extremely sorry.

"OK, girls," he said once the parking brake was on. "You've got about five minutes to stretch. Once the others arrive we get some practice time in the auditorium. The competition proper won't start until after lunch."

"We have proper nutritionally balanced packed lunches," Shona informed the others for the fourth time.

"And bananas," Chrissie added.

Tyler beat his head gently on the steering wheel. "Right, everybody out," he said. "Try not to cause any major incidents until after the competition."

The April Rhodes Pavilion, when they eventually got into it, was better than Tyler had expected from a public high school. The stage was wide enough to keep Marnie and Berta happy, and the acoustics were pretty good. A bit live, Tyler thought, but having an audience in there would change that. It was an easy place to sing in, regardless. Even he had to suppress the urge to belt something out just to hear his own voice coming back at him.

It took a little while to clear the auditorium of spies from the other groups. Tyler found one boy in a Dalton blazer, two girls in Fairmont uniforms and no less than four kids in the lack of uniform that had to mean they were locals. The McKinley kids had the advantage of knowing the good hiding places, but Tyler had experience and Tim's years as a CSI on his side. Once he was fairly sure he had found them all, he left Tim in charge of the sound desk and started putting the girls through their paces.

They were just starting the last number when Tyler spotted an older man lurking near the main entrance. Trusting that Robert would deal with the girls doing anything grossly wrong (and knowing it was too late to fix subtleties), Tyler stalked over to deal with the latest spy. He was a little surprised when the man turned and greeted him warmly.

"Welcome to William McKinley High School," he said. "I'm Principal Figgins, and I just wanted to make sure you have everything you need, Mr...?"

"Jenson. Tyler Jenson. Thank you very much, Principal Figgins, but as you can see we've nearly finished our run through." Tyler hoped that the principal would take the hint and leave, but no such luck. The man merely smiled at him.

"Good, good," he said. "If you have any particular lighting requirements or effects that you want, please do let the lighting crew know. They seem to do an excellent job of, ah, winging it, but they were most insistent on having advance notice for this. The stage manager had some harsh words for Mr Schuester when he revised his plans this morning."

Will Schuester was the director of New Directions, Tyler could remember that much. It sounded like he had a bad habit of making last minute changes if the stage manager's demands were anything to go by. "Did Mr Schuester have a reason to change things?" Tyler asked idly.

Principal Figgins looked like a Slayer who had just realised she shouldn't have mentioned something. "I'm afraid some of our Glee Club members have fallen ill this morning. Most unfortunate — oh my!" He broke off as the girls hit their final positions in a display of precision acrobatics. "That really is most impressive, Mr Jenson. I look forward to seeing the full performance later."

Tyler made a non-committal noise. Figgins had been holding back, that much he was sure of. Whatever happened was more serious than a couple of students falling ill. Which was fishy enough; show choir members were usually the sort of people who would turn up for a performance no matter how ill they were. Tyler himself had danced with a light fever once or twice. It had been hell afterwards, but so worth it.

"Could you introduce me to the stage manager?" he asked. "Or perhaps Mr Schuester could? I'm sure you must be very busy."

Figgins smiled as he watched the girls mill and start to leave the stage. "It's no trouble," he said. "For such a prestigious educational establishment as yours—"

Whatever interrogation Figgins had planned about Summers Academy was cut short by a splintering noise and a scream. Tyler didn't stop to be polite. He jumped up on stage to see Bella in the wings, fallen halfway through a jagged hole in the floor. Pippa was desperately hanging on to her arm, stopping her falling any further. "Chrissie," Pippa yelled, "I need help!"

Tyler paused in astonishment. Pippa was strong enough to bench press Bella, she shouldn't have any trouble pulling her clear. He shook his head and notice that Chrissie too was hesitating. "Chrissie?" he asked.

Chrissie pulled a knife out of her sock and threw it at one of the flats. Pippa abruptly tumbled backwards, dragging Bella with her.

Tyler went cold; Chrissie's knife hadn't cut anything obvious he could see at this distance, which meant either some very clever misdirection was going on or there was magic involved. "Go alert," he told the remaining girls, who promptly sprouted a variety of small weaponry. "Robert! Tim! I need you down here."

"Oh my goodness," Figgins said as he arrived on stage. "Do you allow all your students to go armed?"

"Only on special occasions," Tyler said irreverently. By then he was kneeling next to Bella, examining the damage to her. He didn't like the look of it. Some of the gashes in her left leg were deep and bleeding much too freely. "We need an ambulance," he announced.

"I can go on," Bella insisted as the principal reached for his phone.

Tyler shook his head. "Not with that leg," he told her, pulling off his belt to use as a temporary tourniquet. Her injuries were well beyond his limited paramedic skills — Tim was the one with the medical training — but at least he knew to do that much.

"It would have been worse if she'd fallen," Marnie reported. She was lying flat on the floor looking down through the hole, Berta standing ready to pull her back if anything gave way. "There's a lot of sharp-looking scrap down there."

"You can be sure I'll be talking to the contractors who installed the staging," Figgins called out. Tyler didn't dignify that piece of ass-covering with a reply.

Tim jumped up on stage, first aid kit in hand. "Nasty," he said, taking in Bella's wounds quickly. "You want me to go with her to the hospital?"

"We need you here," Tyler disagreed quietly. He hated hospitals, always so full of miserable-looking people, but Tim's investigative expertise was needed here. "I hope you and Robbie both brought your kits with you. This was a deliberate magical attack."

"Targeted at us?" Tim asked. He looked around with a more assessing stare, the image of a CSI taking his first look at a crime scene.

"Maybe," Tyler said, shrugging. "I'm guessing, but New Directions have some suspicious-sounding illnesses."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Someone is taking this way too seriously," he said.

"Welcome to Show Choir," Tyler said wryly.

Lima General Hospital was better than Tyler had feared. The ER was only fairly overcrowded, and so amazingly grateful that Tyler actually had the school's insurance details on him that they didn't raise more than token objections to Chrissie sticking to Bella like glue.

Fortunately it turned out that while deep, none of Bella's cuts had hit any major blood vessels. There were still a lot of stitches in her leg by the time the doctors had finished, and Tyler had endured a lot of quizzing about Summers Academy's PT facilities.

"Even with your metabolism it'll be a week before you can do any exercise," he said once the medical staff had moved on to some other poor unfortunate.

"I could sing from a chair," Bella said hopefully. Tyler just looked at her; the hospital had made it plain that they weren't going to release Bella until tomorrow morning at the earliest, and Tyler couldn't really disagree with them. Bella's face fell. "It's not fair," she cried. "Pippa gets my solos!"

"And Giselle gets Pippa's," Tyler said soothingly. "This is why we have understudies."

"We all wish you were able to sing with us," Chrissie said, "even Pippa."

"Really?" Bella asked sceptically.

"She knows you're the best singer," Chrissie declared, "and she really wants to win." She went to hug Bella, which turned into a brief wrestling match until Bella gave in to the inevitable.

Tyler sat back and let his attention wander. Now that the immediate rush of dealing with the doctors was over he could afford to think of other things, like who might have done this. Tyler's money was on one of the other choirs trying to take out the competition. True, someone might have it in for McKinley and Bella might just have been collateral damage, but the fact that it was their obvious star soloist was awfully suspicious.

He should check in with Tim, let him know that Bella was OK. Maybe they would let him call from the Nurses' Station, Tyler thought, since they had insisted that phones had to be turned off in the ER. Unfortunately the Nurses' Station was unmanned at the moment. The only person there was a roughly-dressed boy with the world's shortest mohawk, who was staring at the Slayers with the glazed look Tyler associated with teenage boys mentally undressing teenage girls. Tyler rolled his eyes and got to his feet. "Enough with the staring, kid," he said.

The kid ignored him.

"Hey, Mohawk," Tyler said more sharply as he approached, "I'm talking to you."

This time the kid refocused on Tyler, who put on his best teacher glare. "Wait," the kid said, "you can see me?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's more than one New Directions member in hospital, and that's not the end of it.

"Wait, you can see me?"

Six months ago Tyler would have scoffed and said something stupid about how the kid was standing in front of him. Six months ago he hadn't spent weeks talking to Tim's ghost, or been introduced to the weirdnesses of the supernatural world. "What made you think I couldn't?" he asked instead.

Mohawk shrugged. "No one else has been able to, dude. Are you psychic or something?"

A good question, Tyler thought. He had always assumed that seeing Tim had been a special case because they were so close, or Tim being the amazing and determined person he was. It had never even occurred to him that he might have been the special one.

"Mr Jensen?" Chrissie asked uncertainly.

Tyler waved her down. "It's OK," he said. "I think we've got a friendly ghost."

Mohawk's eyes went wide. "Crap, I'm not dead am I? I mean, wouldn't they have taken me to the morgue if I was dead?"

"Woah, calm down," Tyler said, raising his hands placatingly. "Maybe you'd better tell me everything from the beginning. What's your name?"

"Puck. Uh, Noah Puckerman, I mean."

"Nice to meet you, Puck," Tyler said, giving the kid what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He needed to put him more at ease if he was going to get anywhere. "I'm Tyler Jensen, and these are Bella and Chrissie."

Puck leered at the girls. "Totally hot," he said. Tyler frowned at him; there was such a thing as being too much at ease. "What?" Puck said. "They are. It's a compliment, dude."

He's a teenage boy, Tyler reminded himself, or maybe the ghost of one. "So what happened to leave you wandering around here without a body?" he asked.

"Hell if I know," Puck admitted, still sneaking peeks at the girls. "I just got up this morning and the rest of me didn't. Freaked Finn out when he came to pick me up. There were ambulances and sh— stuff, and they brought me here. I kinda got bored just watching myself lie there. I gotta say, the nurses' locker room was a total disappointment."

Teenager, Tyler reminded himself again. "So your body is around here somewhere?"

"Room 204," Puck told him. "They were going to leave me down here, but Mr Schue turned up and kicked their butts." He looked surprised, like no one usually gave a damn about him. Tyler felt a burst of sympathy before it dawned on him who the kid must be talking about.

"You mean Will Schuester?" he asked. "Are you in New Directions?"

Puck nodded. "And it's Sectionals today."

"I know," Tyler said grimly. "I'm in charge of Summertime Sisters. Come on, let's get back to your body, because I don't think whatever happened to you was an accident. Chrissie, stay with Bella. If you need me I'll be in 204."

"You're like not freaking out about this," Puck noted as they walked along.

Tyler shrugged. "This isn't so very strange for me," he said. Seeing ghosts would even explain some of the creepy people he often saw shuffling down hospital corridors. "How about you?" he asked. "Most people would be pretty terrified about this."

"Oh I totally panicked," Puck admitted. "Hell of a way to start the day. And last night had gone so well," he sighed.

"Oh?"

"I hooked up with some prep school girls," Puck said happily. "I didn't even know that was a thing."

"There's an all-girl private school only just outside Lima," Tyler said. Alarm bells were starting to go off in his head.

"Really? I wonder if they need a pool cleaner?" Puck mused, a distant expression on his face.

"Puck, this is important. I need to know exactly what happened when you met those girls."

"Uh, OK?" Puck looked a little startled. Maybe Tyler had put a little too much Horatio Caine in his voice.

"So I went out for a b— uh, grocery run because Ma was working late." Puck looked at him guiltily. Tyler decided not to ask how much of those groceries would have been beer. "Anyway, when I came out these two girls were hanging around. Waiting for a friend they said, only they said it all fancy like Kurt does. So I offered to be their friend, because the ladies can never get enough of the Puckasaurus." He gestured to his admittedly impressive body. Tyler wasn't sure how real the muscles were, but the kid clearly thought a lot of himself.

"Just how friendly did they get?" Tyler asked.

Puck smirked. "I got their numbers because I am an awesome kisser," he said. "They had to go or I would have rocked their world." He looked immensely pleased with himself.

They had been waiting for him, Tyler concluded. Just waiting around 'for a friend' then 'having to go' with no friend showing up? Puck clearly hadn't noticed the inconsistencies in the stories, but to Tyler it was beginning to look like he had been deliberately targeted. Which implied the Fairmont girls or some magical supporters of theirs were trying to take out the opposition. Most likely they were behind Bella's injuries too.

"Are you a soloist?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah," Puck said, sounding a bit thrown by the sudden change in Tyler's line of questioning. "I mean it's only a small solo. I'm not Blaine or Finn, but I do OK." So understudy rather than star, Tyler thought. Then again, New Directions were supposed to have strength in depth.

Tyler walked into Puck's room to see a tall teenaged boy folded miserably onto the chair next to the bed while an old man in a hospital gown stared closely at Puck's body's face. "Dude!" Puck said sharply. "Personal space!" Tyler opened his mouth to ask the man more politely to step away when he turned and looked straight at the ghostly version of Puck.

"You're not using it," the man said. Oh, Tyler thought numbly, another ghost. Lovely. "You can't just leave a young, strong body lying around and expect people not to notice. And I want to live." Before Tyler could say or do anything, the man turned back and sort of flowed into Puck's body.

"Hey," Puck yelled, running over to his body. Tyler followed. He was aware that the teenager was looking at him curiously, but he didn't have time to deal with that. He was too busy trying to remember if there was anything he could do to a ghost besides dig up its bones, cover them in salt and burn them.

Before Puck could try anything like diving into his own body, the old man came boiling back out. "What the hell did you do?" he demanded. "I couldn't wake up."

"I know," Puck growled. He grabbed the man by his hospital gown and tried to slam him against the wall. Since neither of them were solid they carried right on through. The sounds of Puck cussing could be heard moving down the corridor.

Tyler shook his head. Even by Slayers' standards his life was weird. "Sorry," he said to the teenager, "just having a moment. I take it you're a friend of Puck here?"

The kid nodded but didn't volunteer any more information. Fair enough, Tyler thought. "I'm kind of suspicious about why he can't wake up. Would it be OK if I checked him for signs of foul play?"

The kid opened his mouth, paused and frowned. "Are you allowed to do that?" he whispered.

"Not if you object," Tyler said not quite truthfully. "Why are you whispering?" It wasn't like most people didn't want to wake Puck up.

"I lost my voice."

Tyler switched his full attention to the kid. That hadn't sounded like the painful hoarse whisper of laryngitis. "Are you in New Directions too?" he asked. The kid nodded. Tyler grimaced. "Make that very suspicious. Three competitors at Sectionals out of action is more than coincidence."

The kid frowned again. "Three?" he mouthed.

"I'm with the Summertime Sisters," Tyler told him. "The stage collapsed under one of the girls."

The kid looked really surprised at that. "That's never happened before," he whispered.

Tyler refrained from rolling his eyes. "So how did you lose your voice?" he asked instead.

"It just went," the boy whispered, shrugging unhelpfully. "One minute I was telling Rachel about how Puck wouldn't wake up, the next I couldn't speak."

Definitely not natural, Tyler thought. "Did you see or hear anything when it happened?" he asked. "Or feel anything for that matter?"

The kid thought hard about that. "I guess there must have been a cold draught," he whispered eventually. "My breath went all misty for a moment." This didn't appear to make any more sense to him than it did to Tyler from the way he was frowning. Hopefully it would give Robert more of clue about what had happened to him.

"Yo, Finn!" Puck called as he wandered back into the room. "What's with the stupid face?"

Tyler turned to look pointedly at Puck's body lying in the hospital bed. "So," he said as spirit-Puck made embarrassed noises, "can I look Puck over to see if I can figure out what happened to him?"

Finn considered this. "Can I help?"

"Sure," Tyler told him. It wasn't like either of them were trained investigators, even if Tyler did have a better than average idea of what to do.

"Dude, why is Finn whispering?" Puck asked. Tyler risked a glare at him. "Oh, I get it. He doesn't know you can see me, and you think he won't believe you if you tell him. Hey, I could tell you something only he and I know?" Tyler risked a longer glare. Then he fixed his attention on Puck's body, ignoring the overly talkative spirit.

There was no point in gloving up, Tyler decided. Too many people would have dealt with Puck since last night, any trace evidence would already be hopelessly compromised. Not that Tyler had any gloves with him, that was more Tim's thing, but he was pretty sure he could find some in a hospital room if he looked.

Puck had mentioned kissing, so Tyler started by examining his lips. Finn leaned in from the other side, his face a mask of concentration. "What are we looking for?" he whispered.

"Anything that's wrong or out of place," Tyler murmured back. "There's no obvious lip discoloration." Not that that meant they hadn't used trick lipstick, but that always sounded like a good way to accidentally dose yourself to him.

Finn nodded blankly. His eyes were searching Puck's face intently though. Tyler guessed it didn't matter if Finn didn't understand what anything he spotted meant as long as he spotted it. It wasn't like Tyler was any better off.

"Nothing there," he said eventually. "Help me roll him on his side." Because the back of the head, neck and shoulders were places someone might put their hands while kissing Puck.

With Finn's help, turning Puck's unresponsive body was pretty easy, even with Puck whining at him to be careful where he put his hands. It took another minute's careful searching to find the slightly inflamed spot on the back of Puck's head. It was far enough up in the hairline that a casual inspection wouldn't spot it, which was plenty suspicious on its own. Tyler practically crowed as he pulled out his phone.

"Dude, that's creepy," Puck said, sticking his head through Finn's chest.

Tyler couldn't help yelping and jumping back. "Sorry," he said when Finn gave him a concerned look. "I thought I saw something move." Finn quickly looked back at Puck. "Not him... Never mind." Tyler pulled himself back together and took a picture. He sent it off to Tim with the text "INJECTION SITE?"

Thirty seconds later his phone rang. "Who injected you with what?" Tim demanded, grumpy and worried.

"It's not me," Tyler said before Tim could get any more wound up. "It's one of the New Directions boys. He's asleep and can't wake up. And I've got another one here who lost his voice between one word and the next."

"Figures," Time said. "The attack on Bella was definitely targeted."

Tyler's eyebrows climbed. "On her?" he asked.

"One of her hairs was stuck into the sigil Chrissie disrupted," Tim said grimly. "We didn't see the sigil at first because it was painted black on black. That means someone watched the rehearsal, figured out who you built the set around and got a matching hair right under our noses."

Tyler heard the unspoken 'Be careful.' "You watch out too," he replied. He sighed heavily before adding, "I think I need Robbie's magic touch here." The other Watcher was small fry as Council Wiccans' went, but that was still better than the zero aptitude for magic Tyler had.

"He's already on his way over," Tim told him. "We need to make sure there are no lingering effects on Bella. We're still not exactly sure what that spell was."

"I'd better text him the room number for the New Directions kids," Tyler said.

"No need," came from the doorway. Robert bustled in, briefcase in hand. "Bella at least can remember a three digit number, and let me know where you had wandered off to. I take it this is our sleeping beauty?"

"Yeah," Tyler confirmed. "Finn, this is my colleague Robert Johnson. Could you show him what we found?" Finn nodded and straightened up self-importantly. "Anything else I need to know?" Tyler asked Tim.

"Plenty," Tim told him. "Let's start with the Warbler's star soloist having an unexpected nap and not waking up for anything."

"That sounds a lot like what happened to Puck," Tyler said. Tim grunted his agreement.

"What does?" Puck asked from entirely too close. Tyler was used enough to him by now that he didn't jump. Puck looked disappointed.

"Apparently the Warbler's soloist is stuck asleep too," Tyler said to the room in general, by way of answering Puck.

Finn looked up. "Smythe?" he whispered. "Good. He tried to blackmail me."

"Lovely guy," Tyler agreed.

"They'll have given him a private room, no arguments," Puck groused. "He's a rich kid and he wants you to know it."

Tyler knew the sort, and he'd heard Tim grumble often enough about arrogant bastards who thought they could buy their way out of arrest. Still, that was no excuse not to investigate. Pitching his voice low so that only Puck could hear, he asked, "Do you think you can find out which room he's in?"

"Sure," Puck said easily, "but why bother? Like Finn said, he's a grade-A asshole."

"All the more reason to be the better man," Tyler told him. "Plus we need to know as much as we can about what's been done to him if we're going to reverse what's happened to any of you." Which might even be true.

Puck didn't look happy, but at least he headed off. Tyler returned his attention to his phone. "Sorry," he said. "People wanted details."

"You'd better put me on speaker," Tim sighed. "Robbie hasn't heard the latest yet, and it's an escalation."

Tim gave Robert a worried look as he fiddled with his phone. "OK Tim," he said, "what's the big news?"

"Two more of the New Directions kids aren't in school," Tim said bluntly. Finn stopped hovering over Puck's body and stared at Tyler's phone, eyes wide. "The principal's trying to keep it quiet," Tim continued, "but it looks like they never made it to home room. And one of them is the son of a local congressman."

"Kurt?" Finn whispered urgently. "Oh my God!"

"Are the police involved?" Tyler asked. He rapidly ran through the contacts they might be able to use to get in on the case.

"Like I said, the principal's hushing it up." Tim didn't hide his exasperation. "I don't know if there are enough traffic cameras to give us anything to go on..."

"I'm on it," Tyler said, grabbing his laptop.

"This is my fault," Finn whispered as Tyler blew through the hospital's excuse for a security system. "I should have noticed he wasn't there."

"You can't be expected to notice everything," Robert said kindly.

"But Kurt's my brother," Finn insisted. "We were going separately this morning because I had to pick up Puck and he wanted to give Blaine a lift, but we were going to meet back up when we got to school. With everything that's gone on, I kinda forgot," he finished shamefacedly.

"I couldn't hear a word of that," Tim said.

"The congressman's other son is that one who lost his voice," Tyler reported. "I can repeat his answers if you've got any questions?"

Finn shook his head. "Never mind me," he whispered, "we need to find Kurt."

"We will," Tyler told him distractedly. He was busy trying to remember if Lima PD had any network vulnerabilities that he knew of.

There was a sound of shuffling paper from the phone. "Finn Hudson, right?" Tim asked. "Kurt Hummel's step-brother?" Tyler looked up to see Finn nodding and made an affirmative noise. "OK, what time did you last see Kurt?"

"Breakfast," Finn whispered. He thought for a second, then leaned in close to the phone and repeated himself. "I left before he did 'cuz Puck oversleeps sometimes." He looked guiltily over at the bed.

"What address?" Tyler asked. He grimaced; traffic cameras were thin on the ground. They were going to have to get lucky.

Finn rattled off an address. "He was going to pick up Blaine, though," he added, pointing to a different spot on the street map Tyler had pulled up.

"That would be Blaine Anderson," Tim added over the phone. "He definitely got there. The Andersons remember Blaine leaving with him around a quarter past eight."

"Right." Tyler considered the likely routes to McKinley and started pulling up traffic cameras. "What does Kurt drive?" he asked.

"A dark blue Navigator," Finn whispered.

Tyler nodded. "Should be obvious enough," he said, and hit pay dirt practically straight away. "OK, I've got him heading east on Rowan at 8:22." He left the image up so that Finn could confirm it was Kurt's car while he tracked the vehicle through several more intersections. Finally he lost it on a depressingly long camera-free stretch. "Is there anywhere he would have turned off along here?" he asked Finn.

Finn scrutinised the map carefully. "He was going to stop off at the Lima Bean for coffee," he whispered.

Tyler dutifully fast forwarded the video another twenty minutes, just in case service was really slow. Nothing. "They disappeared somewhere in that area," he reported.

"We can check out the coffee shop," Tim declared. "There's always the possibility that they just broke down somewhere and we're worrying about nothing."

Finn shook his head and leaned in again. "Kurt does his own maintenance," he informed them. "If it was something he couldn't fix he'd just call Burt to get the tow truck out. Burt runs Hummel Tire and Lube."

Tim's sigh was audible through the phone. "Stay there, Ty," he ordered. "I don't want you investigating this without backup." Which meant Tim didn't want Tyler investigating at all, and was planning on taking a couple of Slayers and doing it himself while Tyler was stuck at the hospital.

"Take Shona and Giselle," he said. "We'll meet you at... the Lima Bean was it?" Finn nodded. "Yeah, we'll see you there when we've done what we can here."

"You be careful," Tim said gruffly.

"Love you too," Tyler said back. There was a long moment of quiet as he ended the call.

Puck practically bounced though the wall. "I found him," he crowed. "Hey, what's with all the long faces?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wakey wakey, rise and shine. Or complain, if your name is Puckerman.

"So, Robbie," Tyler said, carefully not looking in the direction of Puck's ghostly self, "what's the verdict on our sleeper?"

"It seems to be a fairly simple soporific," Robert replied. He gave Tyler his usual dirty look for the nickname, and shot a more cautious glance at Finn. "It wouldn't show up on the standard tests, so I'm not surprised that the doctors missed it."

In other words, it was a magical effect, Tyler figured. "Can you fix it?" he asked.

Robert nodded. "Normally I'd suggest letting it wear off naturally, which shouldn't take more than a day. Under the circumstances it's worth the slight risk."

"Risk?" Finn breathed at the same time as Puck demanded details.

"Getting the treatment wrong could make him sleep more deeply," Robert explained. "Don't worry, I'm fairly sure I know how to do it right. Unfortunately we have a more serious problem." He looked warily at the unimpressed Finn, clearly trying to pick his words carefully. "I don't think Noah is at home any more."

Ah. OK, that.

"I don't understand," Finn said, his face scrunched up in confusion.

"Think of it like this," Tyler said, giving Robert a significant look. "It's like Puck got bored of being asleep, so his spirit wandered off to find something more interesting to watch."

"Totally true," Puck interjected.

"I don't think it'll be a problem for us," Tyler continued. "Puck just has to get back in his body and everything will be fine."

"But what if he can't find it?" Finn asked, eyes wide. "If he wandered off while he was at home, that's like miles away. And even if he figured out his body's at the hospital, he'd go looking in the ER, not up here. He could be lost forever!"

"He's right here," Tyler said, cutting off the whispered babble. "It's OK, Finn, Puck isn't lost. He just hasn't climbed back into his body yet." He risked a pointed look in Puck's direction.

"OK, dude, I get it," Puck told him. "But if that guy fucks up I'm coming straight back out."

"Are you sure?" Finn asked as Puck's spirit dissolved back into his body.

"Yes," Tyler said with as much sincerity as he could muster. Behind Finn, Robert raised a quizzical eyebrow. "I'm absolutely certain," Tyler continued, mostly for Robert's benefit. "In fact he's back in his body right now."

"Well, if you're _absolutely certain,_" Robert said with disturbingly little faith, "I'd better get started on waking him up. If you could stay over the far side of the room?" he added as Finn moved towards Puck's bedside. "I will need to concentrate, and I'd rather you didn't distract me at a crucial moment."

Tyler was fairly sure Robert was playing up the difficulty, but he took the hint anyway. It would be best if young Finn never realised that Robert's 'cure' was Wiccan ritual magic. Pulling Finn as far away as he could get from the bed, Tyler proceeded to try to distract him with small talk. Unfortunately Finn wasn't playing ball.

"Is he supposed to be burning things?" he asked as Robert lit an incense stick.

"Actually inhalation is a pretty fast way to get something into the bloodstream," Tyler improvised. It had the advantage of being true; he still had vivid memories of how quickly the gremlin's gas bomb had affected him. "Also your sense of smell is one of the strongest triggers for memory. The combination should help kick-start Puck's brain into consciousness."

Finn looked confused. "I thought medicine was more like needles and beeping machines and doctors shouting at each other," he complained.

"Emergency rooms are like that," Tyler said, probably truthfully. "When you've got the time, though, it's usually better to do things more quietly."

"But he's talking," Finn pointed out.

"It's a concentration thing. It helps him decide what to do when." It would actually be an invocation to some being or other, but Finn definitely didn't need to know that.

Finn brightened. "Like Puck does with math problems," he said. "I can tell they're really hard when he starts mumbling."

Tyler smiled and nodded, ignoring the outraged squawk from Puck's direction. He managed not to jump as Robert clapped his hands loudly and rubbed them briskly together.

"Are you sure he's a doctor?" Finn asked worriedly as Robert placed his palms on Puck's forehead and chest. "That looks more like something from that martial arts movie. You know, the one with the car washing?"

"Karate Kid?" Tyler guessed. Finn nodded. "Man, I loved that film when I was a kid. 'Wax on, wax off.'" Tyler sighed happily. "I didn't actually learn any martial arts until recently, though." Kind of. All Watchers were required to learn basic self-defence so they weren't sitting ducks in the field, but Tyler had no delusions of competence.

He had hoped to sidetrack the kid into movies or martial arts, but Finn was stubbornly not distracted. "Shouldn't there be a nurse here?" he whispered. "There's always a nurse around when doctors are doctoring. I should, uh, go fetch one."

Tyler was saved from having to come up with a reason for stopping him when Puck loudly exclaimed, "That looked really weird from this side."

"Puck! You're awake!" Finn whisper-shouted.

"'Bout time too," Puck groused as Robert gave him a surprised look. "Also, dude I do not mumble at math."

"You do too," Finn retorted, then blinked. "Wait, you heard that?"

Puck shrugged and sat up. "I was here, just like Mr J said," he admitted. "He's psychic or something." Robert raised a judgemental eyebrow.

"It was news to me too," Tyler said defensively.

"I suppose it makes sense," Robert admitted slowly. "After all, you could see Tim when he..." He trailed off, looking uncomfortably at the boys.

"Dude, focus," Puck told him. "You need to do your thing on Finn's voice, put back whatever it is that's missing." He slid off the hospital bed and grabbed his pants.

"What?" Finn asked, his face scrunched up in confusion again.

Robert turned his judgemental eyebrow on Puck. "Do my thing?" he repeated incredulously.

"The light show was kind of obvious," Puck told him. What light show, Tyler wanted to ask, but Puck barrelled on. "There's something missing from Finn."

Finn started checking himself over anxiously.

"Not like that, dude," Puck told him. "I dunno, maybe it's where your voice is supposed to be. I could see it — uh, not see it? — when I was watching you. You gotta fix it," he finished, turning back to Robert.

"What?" Finn asked again.

"Magic fingers," Puck explained. "Like, for real magic."

"For real?" Finn whispered.

Puck nodded. "I shit you not, bro."

"I guess that makes sense," Finn said dubiously. He gave Robert a hopeful look.

"Your faith in my abilities is touching if a trifle misplaced," Robert said drily. He had long ago admitted to Tyler that he wasn't a powerful Wiccan at all. He certainly wasn't in the same league as Willow, who could probably have woken Puck with a wave of her hand.

"What exactly happened to you?" Robert asked Finn.

Finn shrugged. "My voice just went," he said unhelpfully. "I was talking to Rachel and suddenly I couldn't make a sound. She offered to make me some honey and lemon drink." He seemed to be particularly cheered by that last bit.

"Mist," Tyler said recalling what Finn had mentioned earlier. "You said your breath misted up."

"Oh yeah," Finn agreed. "Weird, it didn't feel cold."

Robert went still for a moment. "Only one," he murmured, "it can't be them."

"Can't be who?" Tyler asked.

Robert shook himself. "The Gentlemen," he admitted. "Mr Giles' diary mentioned that when they arrived in Sunnydale they stole the voices of everyone in town. The voices appeared as trails of white mist."

"Must have been after I left for college," Tyler mused. "How did Buffy deal with it?"

"She smashed the box the voices were imprisoned in. Then she screamed. Apparently the screams of a young woman are fatal to the Gentlemen."

"Bet she loved that," Tyler said, grinning. He turned to the bewildered Finn. "It won't be those guys, but it sounds like we've just got to find where your voice has been hidden and let it out."

"Dude, that could be anywhere," Puck objected.

"It'll be one of the Fairmont girls," Tyler said, confident of that much. "They are the only choir that haven't been targeted."

"Oh yeah, that reminds me," Puck said. "You need to take a look at Sneaky Warbler. There's some seriously weird shit going on there."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stop helping, Puck.

"I told you, dude," Puck told Finn as he lead the way down the corridor, "I went looking for Smythe before I woke up. Mr J's idea."

Finn gave Tyler a suspicious look. "Friend or enemy, he's been targeted by the bad guys," Tyler said with absolutely no guilt.

"Yeah, but he's a jerk," Finn protested.

"And Puck was ogling my girls when he thought I couldn't see him. We didn't leave him stuck asleep, and we won't leave this Smythe kid either."

"The girls were hot," Puck objected.

"Stop helping," Finn told him. "We should be looking for Kurt."

"Tim already is," Tyler said firmly. Tim was the one with actual investigative experience, he was the best one to be searching for the missing boys anyway. Not that Tyler was happy about his boyfriend walking into danger, but someone had to. "We've got time to look in on this guy, see if it's the same as was done to Puck. Who knows, we may find something that helps us find your brother."

Finn acquiesced with ill grace. "It's worth seeing," Puck said in an obvious attempt to cheer his friend up. "It's like there's this black cage around his head. I dunno why the docs weren't freaking out about it. See?" he finished, pushing open the door to Sebastian Smythe's private hospital room.

The kid in the bed didn't look like someone who would earn Finn's undying enmity. Slightly built and thin faced, he looked kind of innocent. More importantly to Tyler's mind, he was not surrounded by any sort of cage, black or otherwise.

"It was there," Puck protested.

"It seems like your perceptions were different when you were out of your body," Robert said, bustling past them. "Now get in here and shut the door before the nurses get suspicious."

They got in there, and Robert started unpacking his Wiccan ritual kit. Puck wandered over to the bed and stared thoughtfully at Smythe. "I wonder..." he mused. His eyes rolled up and he collapsed to the floor.

"Puck!" Finn whispered, alarmed.

Tyler rolled his eyes. "You know," he said, addressing the spirit still standing there, "you might want to lie down before you do that next time."

Puck looked down at his body. "Oh. Oops. But hey, your guy was right. I can totally see the black stuff now."

"He's OK?" Finn asked Tyler. Robert answered first.

"I'll bet a week's kitchen duty there are absolutely no wards on his body," he said, "so it depends on what you mean by OK."

"No bet," Tyler said, ignoring Puck's protests. "You were right about him needing to be out of body to see stuff, though."

"Of course," Robert said drily. "Plausible guesswork is at least half of our job. Now let's see what we have here." He lit some more incense, closed his eyes and muttered quietly.

Puck leaned over Smythe again. "So what are you then?" he said softly to the vicinity of the boy's left temple. He reached out a hand, then stiffened. "Oh, you did not just growl at me," he growled himself. Then he melted into Smythe's body.

"Uh, Robbie," Tyler said, "I don't want to worry you, but..."

"I saw," Robert sighed. "Just try to deter any passing spirits from trying him on for size."

It was nearly a minute before Puck's spirit came flying out of Smythe's body like he'd been shoved violently. Fortunately no ghosts had happened by in that time, because Tyler didn't think he'd be able to do anything if one had taken a fancy to Puck's body.

"Well, that clinches it," Robert said as Puck reoriented himself. "It's a Sleeping Beauty curse."

"What?" Finn's eyebrows looked like they were making a bid for freedom, his eyes were so wide.

"Basically he's going to stay asleep until his true love kisses him," Tyler explained. "Just like the story."

"I got that," Finn whispered, "but this is Sebastian. He'll sleep with anyone. He's like the gay version of Puck."

"Hey!" Puck objected.

Tyler gave him a look. "You want to argue with him, you get back in your own body and do it," he said. "I'm not going to repeat everything you say."

"You're not pretty enough to be Sigourney Weaver," Robert agreed blandly. Tyler heroically did not stick his tongue out at him. "In any case, Mr Smythe here must have someone that he is truly in love with or the curse couldn't have taken hold. It's not as common as romantic fiction would have you believe, but it does happen."

Tyler thought about accusing Robert of a secret love of romances, but he knew the appearance of Harlequins in the Twentieth Century American Literature course had not been the other Watcher's fault. Instead he turned to Puck, who had climbed back into his body and was cussing as he picked himself up off the floor. "So what happened to you?" he asked.

"I guess I got into a fight with the curse," Puck admitted. "It did not like me poking at it. Next thing I know I'm in a whistle-stop tour of ferret-face's dreams." He shuddered. "Freaky as fuck."

"Language," Tyler said automatically. Oh God, he thought, I'm getting teacher reflexes.

Robert's eyes danced, but he manfully refrained from teasing Tyler. "Did you see any clues as to who might be our Prince Charming?" he asked instead.

"Not really," Puck replied, scratching his head. "It was all Sebastian singing, Sebastian clubbing, Sebastian getting a blowjob. Or giving one." He shuddered. "Most of the people were kinda blurry."

"Bit players in the dream, probably," Robert mused. "Who could you make out?"

Puck thought for a moment. "A couple of Warblers," he said, "Kurt and Blaine of course, and for some reason Karofsky."

"Karofsky?" Finn repeated, astonished.

"I know, dude, but he was there drinking a beer before Sebastian got his rocks off with someone faceless."

"So this Karofsky," Tyler began. Finn cut him off as vehemently as his lack of voice permitted.

"No way!" he whispered. "He spent most of last year bullying Kurt for being gay. I'm just glad he transferred schools this year."

Tyler and Robert looked at each other, well aware of the concept of pulling pigtails. They could wait, though; Smythe's situation was only urgent because of Sectionals. They could afford to take the time to find this Karofsky kid when there weren't so many people who didn't like him in the room.

"I guess that's as much as we can do for now," Tyler said. "We can come back when we've found—" He broke off as the door slammed open.

"Speak of the devil," Finn hissed.

Karofsky, assuming it was him, was the same sort of build as Puck. He looked like he'd run all the way to the room, and seemed surprised to find anyone else there. "Uh, sorry," he said, "I'll just... Wait, what are you guys doing here?"

"What are you doing here, Karofsky?" Puck threw back.

Karofsky drew himself up. "I asked first," he said, advancing into the room, "and I know you guys don't like Seb."

"Seb?" Finn mouthed incredulously. Robert too looked intrigued by Karofsky's answer.

"We were following up on the incidents that have been happening at Sectionals," Tyler said before war could break out between the teenagers. At Karofsky's blank look he added, "That's the singing competition McKinley is hosting. I'm Tyler Jensen, the director of one of the other choirs. The stage collapsed under one of the girls, and we're sure it wasn't an accident."

Karofsky's eyes went wide. "And you think Seb...?" Tyler nodded.

"So why are you here?" Finn whispered. The amount of sneering he still got into the words was impressive.

"Jeff texted me," Karofsky said, staring anxiously at Smythe. "One of the other Warblers. He told me Sebastian had collapsed and been taken here."

"And you cut class to come here?" Finn demanded. "For him?"

"I had a free period." The lie was painfully obvious, but before anyone could call him on it, Karofsky said, "Wait, why are you whispering?"

"Someone stole his voice," Puck said easily. "Probably the same person that cursed Smythe."

"What?"

Tyler face-palmed. "Please stop helping," he told Puck. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the bewildered Karofsky. "I know it sounds ridiculous but someone did deliberately do this to your friend, and it probably was the same person that caused Finn to lose his voice."

Karofsky visibly shoved his confusion aside. "What do the doctors say?" he asked.

"They've got no clue," Puck said before Tyler could stop him.

"Puck!" Tyler snapped. He used the same tones on misbehaving Slayers. Unfortunately it worked just as badly with Puck as it did with the girls.

"Dude, you're going to have to tell him," he said unrepentantly. "Going by the eyebrows you think he might be the one to wake Smythe up. What, I have eyes," he finished as Tyler face-palmed again.

"You mean...? Ew!" Finn's face was a picture of confused disgust.

"What are they talking about?" Karofsky demanded.

"But he can't be," Finn continued, ignoring him. "Karofsky isn't gay."

Karofsky went pale. "I... This is one of those hidden camera things, isn't it?" he said with false bravado. "Ha ha, very funny. You can get up now, Seb."

Smythe didn't move, of course.

Robert sighed. "I suppose minimal disclosure never had much chance here," he muttered. "I'm afraid you're going to find what has happened to your friend a bit unbelievable. Maybe I should start with a demonstration. Do you have a pen or pencil on you?"

"Uh, yeah?" Karofsky said uncertainly. He pulled a cheap ballpoint out of his back pocket.

"Good," Robert said, mildly reassuringly for him. "Now if you could hold it out. No, on the flat of your hand, please."

Puck sat down in a hurry. Tyler glared at him and mouthed "No" very firmly. Puck pouted at him but stayed in his body.

A few moments later, Karofsky was staring wide-eyed as his pen floated at eye-level. "What the fuck?" he said softly.

Tyler glanced at Robert quickly to see the other Watcher beginning to sweat with concentration. It was his turn to explain, clearly. He stepped forward and plucked the pen out of the air. "Magic," he said simply, handing it back to Karofsky. "Long story short, more things from fairy tales exist than you would have thought. Mostly they stay out of sight or people just explain them away, but it seems like someone thought that throwing a lot of curses at show choirs would be a good plan."

Karofsky's jaw worked, but he couldn't seem to find anything to say. Wordlessly he accepted the pen back, looking shocked. Tyler sympathised; if his own introduction to magic hadn't involved the immediate threat of bodily harm he would have been much the same.

"So like I said, Sebastian's been cursed," Puck told Karofsky. "The full Sleeping Beauty treatment. Until his Prince Charming comes along he's staying that way."

Finn scowled. "Can you stop with the Disney references?" he whispered. "I keep getting the urge to break into song and I don't even like that film."

"But Seb's the King of the One Night Stand," Karofsky protested. "He doesn't do love, just sex."

"That must suck," Puck said blandly.

"Yeah, he— " Karofsky cut off, blanching as he realised what he had just admitted. "I..." he stuttered, and wobbled on his feet. Tyler went to steady him, but Finn got there first.

"Breathe," Finn hissed sharply. "Breathe with me, come on." He took Karofsky's hand and pressed it to his own chest. "Feel me breathing and do the same thing. In... Out... That's good. In... Out... Just concentrate on the breathing, nothing else."

Slowly colour came back into Karofsky's cheeks. Tyler had to admit he was impressed. Finn had not shown himself to be the sharpest tool in the box, but he had handled that panic attack at least as well as Tyler could have. Given that he had made no bones about his dislike of Karofsky... Yeah, Tyler was pretty sure he hadn't been nearly so well intentioned at the same age.

"You OK now? Finn asked finally. Karofsky wasn't exactly breathing evenly, but he managed a nod. Finn stepped back to give him room, still smiling encouragingly. He practically glowed when Tyler clapped him on the shoulder and murmured, "Good work."

"I know it might not feel like it right now," Tyler told Karofsky gently, "but the world didn't just end. Trust me, I've seen someone try to end the world and it was way messier than that." Not technically true, but it was the reassurance that counted.

"Nobody here is going to judge you for your sexuality," Robert added, equally softly. "No one is going to tell anyone else without your permission either, are they Mr Puckerman?"

Puck actually looked offended at that. "No fair, I have standards," he said. "I don't out people."

"But pushing them into panic attacks is just fine?" Robert asked sceptically.

"I didn't know that was going to happen," Puck protested. He did at least look like he was uncomfortable with what he'd done. "Look dude," he said to Karofsky, "I'm sorry about that but we needed to know if you had feelings for the ferret."

Tyler nearly face-palmed again at Puck's tactlessness, but Karofsky actually stiffened. "His name is Sebastian," he said harshly.

Puck smiled, and Tyler decided to intervene before he pissed Karofsky off any more. "Puck may have the subtlety of a bulldozer," he said, "but he's not wrong. If you do have feelings for Sebastian, and I'm guessing you do, then there's a chance that you could wake him up."

Karofsky looked over at the sleeping boy, and for a moment his emotions were written all over his face. Tyler heard Finn's soft noise of surprise as he too finally got it; Karofsky was head-over-heels in love with Sebastian.

"I don't think I can do it," Karofsky said thickly. "I don't think I could face being another notch on his bedpost."

"Oh!" It was Puck's turned to look surprised and confused. "Dude, I don't think you are. Would be, I mean."

"Something you saw?" Tyler asked.

Puck nodded. "It was confusing as fuck — sorry," he added at Tyler's frown. Turning back to Karofsky, he said, "He dreams of you."

"And you know that how?" Karofsky demanded, unconvinced.

"Not important," Puck told him, waving away the irrelevancy. "The thing is, when he dreamt of going clubbing it was with you. And he didn't even look at the dance floor until he'd flirted with you and dream-you said no."

Tyler nodded thoughtfully. It wasn't conclusive evidence, but it was pretty suggestive and probably the best they were going to get for now. "He doesn't know how you feel, does he?" he asked Karofsky gently.

The boy shook his head, looking back at Sebastian. "He's smart, confident, experienced; everything I'm not. What could he possibly see in me?"

"Everything that he's not," Finn whispered, wide-eyed. "Someone who doesn't have to put on the big show. Someone who's allowed to be all the things he isn't allowed to be. Karof— Dave, you have to try. You have to. You'll never know if you don't."

Karofsky looked at him suspiciously. "You don't even like me, Hudson," he said.

Finn nodded. "This is serious, though," he whispered. "Even after all the shit you've pulled, and everything he's done... Maybe you're his only chance."

Karofsky — Dave — licked his lips nervously. "What the hell," he said after an interminable moment. "I guess the worst has already happened."

He leaned in and kissed Sebastian.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave and Sebastian kiss, and Puck is actually helpful.

For a moment nothing happened.

Dave was just pulling away, a sad smile on his face, when Sebastian made a small sound of contentment. He reached up, pulled Dave down and kissed him back. Tyler managed not to cheer. Tim would give him endless grief for being such a hopeless romantic, but the utterly delighted look on Dave's face when he pulled back again was just so good to see.

"I don't remember taking my teddy bear to bed," Sebastian said lazily, grinning up at Dave through slitted eyes.

Dave wasn't the only one to roll his eyes. "You are impossible," he said fondly.

"And you love it." Sebastian reached up to pull him back down for another kiss. "Way better than being stalked by Mohawk," he said.

"Dude," Puck protested, "that was totally not my fault."

Sebastian came awake very quickly. Evidently the kid hadn't realised he wasn't still dreaming. He sat up, incidentally pushing Dave away and missing the look of hurt that flashed across Dave's face. "What the f—?" he demanded, breaking off as he noticed Tyler and Robert.

"Don't do that," Finn whispered insistently before Tyler could start explaining. Apparently he hadn't missed Dave's hurt. "Don't ignore Dave. He's like your Prince Charming."

"Please resist the urge to serenade us," Robert murmured to Puck. His fingers were twitching though, and Tyler could practically hear the intro to _Some Day My Prince Will Come_ himself. He had to concentrate on Sebastian and the little he knew about the boy. The King of the One Night Stand, Dave had said. Tyler would bet that Sebastian had invested a fair bit of himself in that reputation.

"If you're trying to pretend that you don't have feelings for Dave, I'm afraid you've already blown that one," he said gently.

Sebastian whipped his head round to Dave quickly enough this time to catch Dave's fleeting look of hope. "I thought you had better taste than that, Cub," he said roughly. Finn made a soft noise of frustration.

Dave winced at the implied rejection. "I thought my taste was pretty good," he replied.

"You don't want someone like me," Sebastian told him more confidently. "People like me just hurt people like you." The kid was a good actor, Tyler had to give him that. If he hadn't seen the kiss and spent a fair proportion of his college career learning stagecraft, he might have thought Sebastian really didn't care.

Puck wasn't fooled either, it seemed. "No, dude," he said more seriously then he had taken anything so far. "When something like this comes along, you grab it with both hands and you _do not screw up._ Trust me on this."

It was Sebastian's turn to look like a deer in headlights. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off Dave. Sebastian didn't say anything, but Dave must have seen something that convinced him. He leaned in and kissed Sebastian. And Sebastian kissed him back.

When it didn't look like they were coming up for air any time soon, Tyler looked at the others and nodded at the door. Once they had sneaked out without disturbing the oblivious couple, Puck looked back bemusedly. "So Sneaky Warbler is a real boy after all," he said.

"That is so weird," Finn agreed.

"Right," Tyler said decisively as they headed back down to the ER. "You boys need to get back to McKinley. Did you drive here?" he asked Finn.

"What? No!" Finn whispered. "I mean, Coach drove me here, but I'm coming with you."

"I can't take you," Tyler explained patiently. "This will probably be dangerous, and—"

"Kurt's my brother," Finn interrupted. "I haven't always been a very good brother to him. I have to help find him."

"You have helped," Tyler said. "You told me what Kurt's plans were, gave us a place to start looking. You don't have to do any more." He wished Tim was there. Tim must have had to handle this before, angry relatives trying to insert themselves into an investigation. It probably helped being technically police.

"I'm coming," Finn whispered insistently. He folded his arms for emphasis.

"We're coming," Puck corrected. "I got your back, bro."

"See," Finn said, "that's what I didn't do for Kurt."

"Besides," Puck continued, "you need my awesome invisible scouting skills."

"Not until you learn how to put some basic wards on yourself," Robert said sharply. "Unless you want something else wandering around in your body, of course." Puck shrugged.

Tyler looked hopelessly at the boys. Typical stubborn teenagers, he thought. In some ways they were worse than the girls; Slayers were made for this sort of thing after all. They had the skills to back up their stubbornness. "I can't protect you if you come with us," he said seriously. "Chances are you'll get hurt." Possibly killed if things went badly. It wasn't like he had enough experience as a Watcher to know how to keep them out of trouble.

"I don't care," Finn declared. Puck nodded his agreement.

Tyler looked to Robert for help. He didn't get any. "Your choir, your decision," his accompanist said.

"Thanks a bunch," Tyler told him. He sighed. "OK, Bella's going to have to look after herself. We'll need Chrissie to keep these two from doing anything stupid."

Robert made a face over the boys' offended noises. "The thought of Chrissie being the sensible one is truly terrifying," he said drily.

Bella, it turned out, was happy to fend for herself, at least for the afternoon. "It's not like I'm unarmed," she said when Chrissie fussed over her some more.

Tyler looked at her narrowly.

"It's a hospital, Mr Jensen," Bella protested. "If the worst comes to the worst, I can always hit things with an IV stand."

"And what have you hidden under the mattress?" Tyler asked sharply.

Bella sheepishly reached under the ER cot and pulled a long knife out. Finn choked in surprise and Puck looked at Bella with new admiration. "You're always telling us to keep weapons near," she complained.

"Not where the nurses will find them," Tyler told her, hiding the knife under his shirt. "Wait until you get your own room before arming up."

Finn choked again, and Tyler had to admit the kid had a point. When he was giving advice like that completely honestly, his life was officially weird. "Come on," he said to Chrissie, "we need to get moving."

"Not so fast," a voice said from behind them. Tyler turned to see Sebastian Smythe striding towards them, Dave Karofsky a half step behind him. Sebastian had managed to find and put on his school uniform, and somehow was looking immaculate.

Chrissie inserted herself between Sebastian and the rest of them, her normally cheerful and open face going hard and dangerous. "Woah, down tiger," Sebastian said. "The way I see it, I'm owed some explanations."

"Magic's real, Dave broke the curse on you, we need to find Kurt and Blaine," Puck snapped. "That good enough?" Evidently he was fresh out of goodwill towards Sebastian.

Sebastian blinked in surprise, but his mask slipped back in place quickly. "What's the matter, Princess Peach run off screaming?" he sneered.

Finn's eyes narrowed. "They've been kidnapped," he whispered harshly.

"Shit," Dave said, paling. "What do you need?"

Fewer teenagers, Tyler thought. Before he could come up with a tactful way of putting that, Finn got in first. "For real?" he asked incredulously. "You kind of made a career out of making Kurt miserable. Why help now if you hate him so much?"

"I never hated him," Dave insisted. "I..." He trailed off, looking awkward and uncertain.

"Not all of us have the luxury of being straight or are rich enough no one cares," Sebastian said softly. He rested a tentative hand on Dave's shoulder. "I didn't exactly help."

"Don't," Dave said quickly. "We said we were starting again, remember? Anyway," he continued, turning back to Finn, "you're right, I was a complete shit to Kurt. I owe him. If there's anything I can do to help, just tell me."

Finn held his gaze for a long moment before sighing. "I guess I get it," he whispered. "Come on, we think they got to the Lima Bean. I'll explain on the way."

"No offence," Sebastian said with offensive levels of cheer, "but Puckerman's louder."

"I still don't like you," Finn told him.

"But you helped him all the same," Dave pointed out.

"Hey, no fair using my own words against me."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two singers to go, please.

The parking lot outside the Lima Bean was a welcome sight to Tyler. He'd thought that ferrying Slayers around was trying, but the four boys were so much worse. Finn and Dave were at least trying to be civil, but neither Puck nor Sebastian could resist poking at any opening.

"We're here," he said redundantly, turning the Slay Wagon's engine off.

"Thank God," Dave murmured.

"I can see Kurt's car," Finn whispered eagerly. His eyes narrowed. "There are people standing around it."

Tyler looked over and smiled. "That's Tim and the girls," he said. "Hopefully he'll have something for us already."

"More weird shit?" Puck asked curiously. He wiggled his fingers for emphasis.

"Security videos, I hope," Tyler told him. He opened the door and started ushering teenagers out. Robert pulled into a nearby parking space, and he and Chrissie joined them quickly.

"Hey," Tyler called to Tim as they walked over. "Got anything?"

"Hey yourself," Tim said, pulling him into a one-armed hug. He gestured at the laptop open on the Navigator's hood. "We've got this morning's camera feeds," he explained. "Apparently there's some kind of secret society of baristas." He gave Shona an amused look. She rolled her eyes.

"May I?" Tyler asked. Tim gestured at the laptop and stepped back, as if he hadn't been waiting for Tyler to show up and work his technical magic on the videos. Tyler checked the timestamps and skipped back to ten minutes before Kurt and Blaine's estimated time of arrival. Playing at triple speed, he hit pay dirt almost straight away.

"Two girls in Fairmont uniforms," he reported. "Anyone recognise them?" He didn't hold out much hope — the camera quality wasn't that great — so he wasn't surprised by the chorus of noes. Sebastian went so far as to pull out a pair of spectacles and stare hard at the screen, but he still admitted defeat quickly. Dave appeared to like how he looked in them, which may have been the point.

Tyler hit fast forward again and settled in to watch. "Can't you just skip to when Kurt gets here?" Finn asked impatiently.

"Always watch before and after," Tyler told him. "I'm not expecting anything since we've already seen those girls, but..." He broke off and hit pause, backed the video up and enlarged a face. "I've seen her before," he said.

Tim stared at the screen. "Isn't that one of the girls you tossed out of the rehearsal?" he asked.

"Yeah," Tyler agreed, the memory slotting into place. "She was wearing a Fairmont uniform then."

"My, what a coincidence," Robert said drily.

Sebastian snorted. "That's Maura Brown-Oh-I'm-Sorry-Lebrun," he said, his lip curling in distaste. "Cast iron bitch. If she had half as much talent as she has ambition, she'd be dangerous."

"I would pay to be there when you say that to her," Giselle gold him. "I went to elementary school with her and she was a total pain."

"So 'Brown' was too boring for her, _Smythe?_" Puck asked with no attempt at subtlety at all.

"Two for distraction and one to work whatever they were doing, then," Tim mused as a minor fight broke out. "Makes sense. Let's carry on, see what else shows up.

Tyler hit fast forward again and watched as a steady stream of customers arrived and left clutching their precious coffee. It seemed like the Lima Bean was a popular place with teenagers. That made it an obvious place to catch the McKinley kids if you knew the area, he mused.

Right about the time the boys were expected, Finn tugged on Tyler's arm. "There's Kurt," he whispered urgently. Tyler hit pause and studied the boys, trying to get some kind of feel for them.

Kurt Hummel was soft-featured and snappily dressed. Very snappily — Tyler had seen markedly less stylish outfits at red carpet events. He seemed to be talking animatedly to his companion, presumably Blaine Anderson, his hands expressively shaped as he explained something. A born performer, Tyler thought.

Blaine was shorter with heavily gelled hair, smiling amiably at whatever Kurt was saying. He seemed relaxed and happy, and Tyler would have pegged them as a couple even if he hadn't been told. Together, they made him think of an elf and hobbit enjoying each other's company. Probably best not to mention that, he thought.

"OK," he said as he started reconfiguring the screen. "Given how busy the place seems it'll be a while before they get served. Let's just make sure they don't come out of the back door." He pulled the rear camera feed into a second window, slaved the videos together and set them running.

"You've done this before," Sebastian drawled. It sounded half accusing.

"Ty was Miami-Dade Crime Lab's A/V Tech," Tim explained shortly.

Tyler smiled. "Tim was a CSI," he added, not looking away from the screen. "We moved up here for health reasons." He could practically feel Tim rolling his eyes.

"Health reasons?" Puck asked. "You don't look— woah, there they are."

Kurt and Blaine were indeed coming out of the front door much sooner than they should have, in the company of the two uniformed Fairmont girls. They were moving stiffly and their faces were flat and expressionless, quite unlike the way they had gone in. Maura Lebrun walked out behind them, looking immensely pleased with herself.

"Some sort of compulsion, I bet," Robert declared. "That's worryingly advanced magic for someone of her age."

"So she's dangerous?" Shona asked.

"Very," Robert said. "Don't give her an opportunity to cast a spell." The girls looked grim at that.

"Sounds like there's been a lot of magic thrown around this competition," Tim observed.

Tyler let the conversation flow over him. He concentrated instead on the security feed, switching cameras until he could track the group to the SUV they drove off in. He doubted he'd be able to track it far through the traffic cameras, but at least he got a clear shot of the license plate.

"So where would they take them?" he asked. "Fairmont?"

Sebastian frowned. "That's over an hour from here, more if the traffic's bad.

"And we know they were at McKinley by the time we got there," Tim pointed out. "It must be closer than that. Where does this Lebrun girl live?"

Tyler rattled off the Lima address the DMV had just supplied. It was in the direction the girls had turned out of the car park at least.

Dave whistled. "Nice," Sebastian said grudgingly. No charging in all guns blazing, Tyler translated for himself.

"We'll need to talk our way in," Tim said. "Giselle?"

Giselle grimaced. "I hate the rich airhead routine," she said. "And no offence Mr Speedle, but you, Shona and Chrissie don't come across right for people like the Lebruns."

The boys all looked at Sebastian, who smirked. "Just leave the talking to me," he said.

"No," Tim said firmly. "It's too dangerous. We're trained to deal with the supernatural. You aren't."

Sebastian's smile didn't slip even for a moment. "I'm trained to deal with the rich," he said with aggravating pleasantness. "You aren't. And she's right, all of you aren't nearly arrogant enough to fool the Lebruns." Tim glared at him.

Tyler sat upright, channelling some of the older Watchers that he'd met. "I think we might surprise you," he said disdainfully. Giselle and Sebastian looked at him consideringly.

Which was why Tyler found himself twenty minutes later on the doorstep of a huge suburban house.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the missing singers are found. Mostly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: bits of this chapter are a tad gory. The nervous may wish to bear in mind the warnings that _aren't_ given here.

"Mrs Lebrun!" Sebastian exclaimed with offensive levels of charm as the door opened. "Maura didn't say her mother was so gorgeous."

Giselle rolled her eyes. "Hello, Mrs Lebrun," she said. "I'm Giselle Henly-Morton. Maura and I met at St Cecilia's."

Mrs Lebrun looked off-balance, as planned. She was a willowy forty-something who practically screamed 'bored rich housewife.' "Persephone's daughter?" she asked. Giselle nodded. Using their real names was a calculated risk, but in the end they decided that the chance Mrs Lebrun would recognise Giselle eventually was too great, and it was too easy to track them down anyway. "I'm afraid Maura isn't here right now," Mrs Lebrun continued.

Giselle nodded cheerfully. "Oh yes, we met at McKinley High School. We're there for the singing as well. It was so lovely to see her again."

"She seemed so upset when she realised she'd left her bag here," Sebastian chipped in earnestly. "A Dior, did you say?" he asked Giselle. Apparently Maura had been carrying it at McKinley, and it was the best excuse they could come up with.

Giselle sighed dreamily. "Of course I offered to come and fetch it immediately when she couldn't get away. Last minute rehearsals," she added confidingly.

"I couldn't let a lovely young lady go alone," Sebastian added, grinning winningly at Giselle. If Tyler hadn't seen Sebastian's real smile aimed at Dave Karofsky and heard the declaration that the kid was "100% gay, ew, don't make me think of that," he would have been fooled too.

"And I wasn't about to leave a teenage boy alone with one of my charges," he drawled with all the arrogant disdain he could muster. "Tyler Jensen, Giselle's musical director." As he held out his hand lazily, he noticed Puck come running up. Since no one else turned a hair, and Mrs Lebrun looked very much the sort to take issue with the mohawk, Tyler assumed the idiot was wandering around without his body.

"Angelique Lebrun," Mrs Lebrun replied automatically, shaking Tyler's hand. She looked at each of them and apparently came to a decision. "Well you'd best come in then," she said, switching on a painfully fake smile. "You young people must be parched. I've got some lemonade in the fridge, an old family recipe."

Tyler smiled his own much less visibly fake smile and followed her in. "I'm sure that would be delightful," he said, sharing a look with Giselle. They would not be drinking anything in this house.

Giselle and Sebastian kept up their flirtatious chatter as they entered the house, giving Tyler an opportunity to glare at Puck. "Before you start," Puck said quickly, "I got Mr Magic to do the ward thing. I'm your backup." At least he could run and get help, Tyler thought philosophically.

Mrs Lebrun lead them through to a spacious kitchen that looked much too clean and tidy to have ever been seriously used. Tim, the son of a chef, would scowl to see good cookware being used for display purposes. Tyler kept that thought in mind as he schooled his features. Mrs Lebrun was never going to know that her kitchen beat every other kitchen he had seen hollow.

The woman in question wasn't even looking. She pulled a jug of home-made lemonade from the fridge and poured a glass before giving the jug a dissatisfied stare. "It's settled," she decided. "Just a moment." She opened a drawer and lingered just a moment too long about pulling out a long-handled stirrer. Tyler normally had the luxury of watching things like this in slow motion, but he was moderately sure she had palmed something else at the same time.

"Uh, yeah," Puck said uncertainly as Mrs Lebrun gave the jug a vigorous stir. "I don't know what she just did but you do not want to touch that stuff now." Tyler gave him a tiny nod and flashed Giselle a quick signal.

Giselle grabbed two glasses and chattered brightly as Mrs Lebrun filled them. Tyler took the opportunity to catch Sebastian's eye, nod towards the jug and shake his head slightly. Sebastian rolled his eyes. Fair enough, Tyler thought, and picked up the remaining glass.

"I'm afraid I'm not as familiar with Ohio society as I should be," he drawled as Mrs Lebrun poured out the last of the lemonade, "and you are clearly a family of substance. May I ask who Mr Lebrun is?" He gestured vaguely at the house with his unoccupied hand, conveniently in the direction away from the teenagers.

"Well, I'd hardly say we were that important," Mrs Lebrun said, clearly meaning the exact opposite. She proceeded to explain that her husband was some kind of financial wizard dealing with matters too complex for normal mortals.

"That sounds terrifyingly difficult," Tyler admitted. "I'm rather glad I decided to stick to music. Thank you for the refreshments, by the way." He raised his glass in a salute and faked taking a drink. Beside him, Giselle took a good long gulp of hers.

Mrs Lebrun smiled a smile that didn't reach her eyes and took a delicate sip. "Tell me, Mr Jensen," she began, then blinked and wobbled. Tyler took the glass from her hand and Giselle deftly caught her as she folded up unconscious.

"Wow," Puck said admiringly. "I didn't even see her make the switch."

Sebastian put his drink down carefully. "That's not alarming at all," he said.

Tyler gave him a rueful smile and pulled out a couple of pairs of latex gloves that he had taken from the Slay Wagon's supplies. "You two put Mrs Lebrun in a comfortable chair then go over Maura's room, see if you can find any clues where she might have taken the boys. Wear these." He tossed the gloves to them. "Puck, let the others know the coast is clear. If you see anything magical, don't touch it." Puck gave him a sarcastic salute and headed off.

"And what are you going to do?" Sebastian asked, one eyebrow raised.

Tyler smiled and pulled on a pair of gloves himself. "Clean up," he said. "She's going to remember us, but let's not leave behind more trace evidence than we have to."

Finn was the first in, to Tyler's great lack of surprise. Tyler had barely had time to collect the glasses and get to the front door when Finn charged up. "Where are they?" he whispered incongruously.

"Dude, they've only just started looking," Puck panted out as he followed Finn up. In his own body, given the slightly embarrassed look on Finn's face after he spoke.

"Glove up, both of you," Tyler said firmly. He indicated the latex gloves Finn was holding, presumably thanks to Tim, and was glad to see Puck pull out his own pair. "Start downstairs, see if you can find anything odd or out of place. And don't touch anything; we want to leave as little physical evidence we were here as possible."

"I want to try something," Puck said. "I think I can..." He screwed his face up in concentration then seemed to lose his balance and practically fell on Finn. When he opened his eyes, his irises were a milky white. "Wow, that's freaky."

"You're telling me," Finn muttered.

"What did you do?" Tyler asked in alarm. He wished that he'd laid down the law about Puck experimenting with his abilities a lot harder. Watcher training was full of cautionary tales of people doing themselves permanent harm messing around with magic they didn't really understand. If that happened to Puck on his watch...

"I reckoned I could see the weird sh— stuff without getting out of my body," Puck said unsteadily. "It kinda works."

"Kinda works?" Tyler asked pointedly.

"I can see whatever she did to the lemonade, but everything else..." Puck paused, clearly trying to find the right words. "It's like I've got double vision, only not. It's _really_ weird."

It sounded potentially dangerous. "Be careful," Tyler told him. "If you start hurting at all, stop doing it. We don't know what kind of damage you could be doing to yourself."

"Yes, Mom," Puck said with entirely unnecessary sarcasm. He leaned into Finn again. "Dude, could you like make sure I don't run into anything?" Finn nodded vigorously. Tyler sighed but let them go; truthfully the extra magical sensitivity would be useful. He left the door for Tim and the others, who were coming up the drive at a sedate, unsuspicious pace, and went back to cleaning up.

He had just put the last of the glasses away when he heard Puck's triumphant cry of "Found something." 'Something' turned out to be a door on the far side of a utility room. Given the way Puck was keeping Finn back, Tyler reckoned they couldn't just walk through it.

"It must go down to a basement," Tim mused, looking over Tyler's shoulder. "I take it there's magic on it?"

Puck shrugged. "The door's so excited about opening it's kinda embarrassing," he said, "but there's this stuff on it that's all 'None shall pass.'"

"Right." Tim turned and shouted, "Hey Robert, we've got a ward here."

"Any idea what sort?" Robert shouted back. Moments later he squeezed himself into the room.

"The rude sort," Puck said darkly, glaring at the door.

Robert grimaced. "I suppose it was too much to hope that it would just curse us with mild inconveniences," he said.

"No, I mean this thing has a severe attitude problem," Puck told him. He turned back to the door. "Don't make me come in there and go all King Arthur on your ass."

"Okay," Robert said slowly. "Well there's no obvious runes carved on the door frame. I can try—"

"Oh, that is it," Puck exploded. His body slumped against Finn, and Tyler saw his spirit flow into the door, fist raised.

"Oh for..." he groaned. "He makes the girls look well-behaved and cautious."

"Hey!" Shona protested. Tyler gave her a faintly apologetic look; she was the most cautious of his girls, but that wasn't saying much.

"What's going on?" Sebastian demanded as the others tried to crowd in.

"Puck found a magically locked door," Tyler explained quickly. "Robbie, can you...?"

"I don't want to risk anything while that idiot boy is out of his body again," Robert replied, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He was looking carefully at the door frame now, and he wasn't looking happy. Tyler watched him run a finger across the lintel and take a cautious sniff. "Well, that's not good."

"What?" Shona demanded. She moved forward so she could protect Robert if necessary.

"Sulphur," Robert told her. "It indicates the presence of some of the nastier types of demons. We aren't just looking at someone who has discovered witchcraft and gone over the top."

They all jumped back when the door clicked open. Tyler say Puck flow back into his body and roll onto his back. "Ow," he groaned. At least his eyes were normal now, Tyler thought.

"Dude, did you just beat that door open?" Finn asked.

"I told you, the door's been wanting to do the big reveal this whole time," Puck said tiredly.

"You beat up the _warding?_" Shona sounded impressed despite herself.

"You aren't beating up anything for a while," Tim said firmly. "You stay here. Giselle, stay with him. Shona, you've got point."

Shona nodded and stepped cautiously through the doorway. Finn was next, by dint of being next to the door and flatly ignoring Tyler. Sighing, Tyler followed him.

The door let onto a narrow, enclosed stairway headed down. It was at least lit, Tyler reflected. Keeping the boys in darkness would have been cruel, assuming they were here. A quavering voice from below answered that; "I'm not afraid of you," someone young, scared and male called out. Finn swore and tried to push past Shona, who at least had the good sense to peer around the end of the stairs before letting him through. Tyler swore himself and hurried after them.

The stairway opened into what was clearly a ritual space, chock full of clues that no white magic was being practised here. The two boys were tied to chairs in front of an altar. Kurt looked to be physically okay, albeit on the edge of hysteria as Finn comforted him and Shona cut him free. Blaine... not so much. There was blood all over his clothing and a hole in his chest where his heart should be. The blood on the altar told the rest of the story.

"Finn, oh thank Gaga you're here," Kurt sobbed. "We're saved. Blaine, wake up. We're saved!"

Tyler could see the pain in Finn's eyes and winced himself. Seeing his boyfriend killed in front of him must have been too much for the kid. "I'm sorry, Kurt," he said gently, "but Blaine's gone."

"No he's not," Kurt insisted. "Blaine! Blaine, wake up!" He reached over and poked his boyfriends' corpse.

The corpse groaned and opened its eyes. "Kuuuurt," it moaned.

Tyler fell over backwards as he tried to scramble away. It took him a moment to notice that Finn had pulled Kurt out of danger and Shona was now standing guard in case Blaine got free, ready to move in any direction.

"Well, that's different," Robert said from the safety of the bottom of the stairs.

"So not just me then?" Tyler asked. His life was officially weird if he was hoping that he was just seeing a dead person's spirit rather than an actual zombie.

Robert shrugged. "I guess the damage can't be as bad as it looks," he suggested.

"Robbie, his heart is missing. As in, not in his chest."

"Call me Robbie again and Faith will get a lovely video of you screaming like a girl and falling over your own feet." Robert smirked and turned to Kurt. "I think you should tell us exactly what happened, Mr Hummel."

With gentle prodding from Tim, Kurt did an admirable job of keeping it together as he described what the girls had done to Blaine. Tyler was quietly horrified at the image of the boy's still-beating heart on the altar, slowly transforming to red crystal. He couldn't imagine what seeing it must have been like for Kurt.

"They each took a piece?" Robert asked. He was studying Blaine's semi-conscious form from way closer than Tyler was comfortable with.

"Yes," Kurt sniffed. "It just fell apart, and they... Why? Why did they do it? It didn't even go with their outfits." Finn hugged him harder, anguish written across his face.

"They wanted his skill as a performer," Robert replied, nodding to himself. "So he really is still alive. The dead have nothing to give."

"Seems like a gruesome way to do it," Tyler remarked. Rituals were built on imagery and theatre, and he couldn't see the connection here.

Robert gave him a thin smile. "You're always telling the girls to sing from the heart," he said. Tyler blanched.

"What do we do with him?" Tim asked, ever the practical one. "Besides get him somewhere safe, obviously. How do we undo the ritual?" He gestured to Shona, who started cautiously cutting Blaine loose.

"I have no idea," Robert admitted. "Retrieving all the pieces of his heart is a good start, but beyond that? I need to get on the phone."

"And we need to search this place," Tim said, grimacing at the basement. "Anything we can find out about this coven might help."

"Be quick about it," Tyler told him. "We don't know how long Mrs Lebrun will stay unconscious." What a mess, he thought to himself. They had come to Lima to sing, nothing more. Demons and witches had not been part of the plan, nor the escalating viciousness of curses being used. This was supposed to be a normal school outing, not a slaying expedition.

Tyler hadn't fully appreciated what Principal Wood had meant when he said that Summers Academy redefined normal.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A musical battle royale. SIng from the heart, people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is such a long chapter, but there wasn't anywhere convenient to break it. See the end notes for all the song information.

"You were supposed to take him somewhere safe," Tyler hissed. That had been the reason for packing the boys off together, after all; getting Blaine Anderson somewhere where being a semi-conscious living zombie wouldn't matter. Instead they were all standing in the wings of the auditorium at McKinley, one of the least safe places Tyler could think of right now. The black and red New Directions costumes at least hid the gaping hole in Blaine's chest.

Puck shrugged, looking at where Blaine was leaning heavily on Kurt. "He got stronger the closer we got to school," he said. "We figured, what the hell? It's not like we could leave him alone anywhere."

"I insisted," Blaine said heavily. He looked like someone fighting off a serious illness, but that was still an improvement on what he had been like. He managed a tired, obviously fake smile. "The show must go on, right?"

Kurt immediately started fussing over his boyfriend, entirely reasonably in Tyler's opinion. Blaine took his hands to stop him. "You have to focus on beating them, Kurt," he said calmly. "Don't let them win."

They were already winning, Tyler thought as he looked over at the crowded stage. He knew they had been tight for time when they left the Lebrun's house, but he had expected to come back to one or other of the groups performing their set. Instead, Sectionals rules seemed to have been thrown out of the window. All four choirs were on stage, engaged in a furious battle royale, and Sweet Sixteen were wiping the floor with everyone else. Right now they were powering through _You Can't Stop The Beat[1]_ and they weren't being subtle about the magic they were putting into their performance. New Directions and the Warblers didn't know why they were being pulled into backing vocals, but they clearly didn't like it. The Slayers had figured out there was something supernatural going on, particularly once Shona and the others made it on stage, but they just weren't good enough to beat the music. As Tyler watched, the Fairmont girls danced a wave motion to the words "Motion in the ocean" that literally threw the Slayers away from them.

Puck staggered slightly. "Woah, that's a lot of shit," he said, his eyes a milky white again. "I think it's the five in the middle that have got... uh..."

"Well that's Maura, big surprise there," Sebastian said. "So what, we just walk up and grab the tasteless jewellery?"

"You won't be able to," Tyler told him. "Everything you do is going to have to fit into whatever you're singing." Of course, that was why they had gone for a face-off. They could make magical use of the rules to hobble the competition.

"We have to pick—" Puck began. He broke off as Maura confronted the girl fuming at the head of the New Directions formation. The girl's eyes widened and she grabbed at her throat, clearly having difficulty breathing.

"Rachel!" Finn whispered urgently. He rushed on stage to comfort the collapsing girl.

"That's a curse," Tyler said somewhat redundantly. He recognised the small cloth bag Maura was waving blatantly in front of Rachel's face. "We need to burn the hex bag to stop it." Some of the Slayers were already trying and failing.

Puck pulled a lighter out of his pocket and clicked it into life. "But we can't get near," he growled. Then he looked down at the little flame and started. "Oh, hey. I've got a job for you." Moments later Maura yelped and dropped the hex bag as it caught fire. Rachel's breathing eased immediately.

"So I'm thinking a fight song," Puck said conversationally, his eyes normal again. "_Eye of the Tiger_ maybe?"

Kurt turned to glare at the girls on stage. "Oh, I think we can do better than that," he snarled, and strode on stage as Sweet Sixteen hit their last phrase. Puck cussed quietly and slipped on after him.

_"What is this feeling, so sudden and new?"[2]_ Kurt sang, as if the final chord had been his opening strike chords. New Directions filled in the backing as he stalked towards his prey, every inch embodying Galinda.

Kurt had cut the opening of the song cleverly, Tyler realised. What would have been a duet for Galinda and Elphaba had become a solo for him, denying the Fairmont girls a chance to respond. And New Directions were following his lead as if they had been rehearsing this for weeks.

"They're good," he murmured.

"Eh, it's _Wicked,_" Sebastian disagreed. "Everyone's good at _Wicked._" He made some signals to the Warblers on stage, which got him a few raised eyebrows. Beside him, Dave rolled his eyes.

The Warblers hit the song running just as Kurt really hit his stride. _"Loathing,"_ he sang contempt etched into every line of his body. _"Unadulterated loathing, For your face."_

_"Your voice,"_ put in a blond boy from over Kurt's shoulder.

_"Your clothing."_ The amply built black girl's gaze raked the Fairmont girls from top to bottom and clearly found them lacking.

_"Let's just say I loathe it all!"_ they sang in harmony. They even struck the same poses, Tyler realised. For something they were pulling off on the spur of the moment, it was ridiculously good.

Blaine chuckled weakly. "Nobody knows show tunes like Kurt," he said proudly. "I have faith in him."

Tyler couldn't help but snort. "I wish I had Faith," he said. "She's the bigger, meaner sister of my girls out there."

"Meaner than a bunch of knife-wielding maniacs?" Dave asked warily. "That's reassuring."

Tyler sighed. "For most of history there was only ever one Slayer at a time. Then there were two. That was Faith. She's faced worse than a coven of witches on her own."

"We're constrained by the music, right?" Sebastian asked. He had a calculating look on his face. Tyler nodded. Sebastian grinned and gave the Warblers some more signals.

Dave rolled his eyes. "Do I even need to ask?" he said. Sebastian just grinned some more.

Out on stage, New Directions hit their climax. _"Truly, deeply loathing you,"_ they sang, the Warblers thundering out the accompaniment. Kurt stood right up in Maura's face. _"My whole life long!"_

The move was so slick, so much a part of the choreography, that Tyler nearly missed it. Kurt's hand just brushed across Maura's chest before he turned and stalked away, something red glinting as he walked. It took Maura a second to realise that her piece of Blaine's heart was gone.

Sebastian didn't give her time to react. As he swaggered on stage the Warblers subtly changed the rhythm, denying Maura one last chance to reclaim the part of Elphaba. _"Well I guess it would be nice if I could touch your body,"[3]_ he sang with an insincere smirk.

_"I know not everybody has got a body like you  
But gotta think twice before I give my heart away  
And I know all the games you play because I played them too."_

"He is shameless," Kurt murmured as he came off-stage. Carefully he handed the heart shard to Blaine, who practically sagged into him as he took it.

"He's got a plan," Blaine said. He sounded more relieved than pained, so Tyler decided not to worry more about him just yet.

"What," Kurt sniffed, "he wants to be George Michael when he grows up?" He slipped back on stage, where the rest of New Directions seemed to be having a conversation of meaningful looks.

Sebastian's plan was working, Tyler thought. Marnie and Berta already had more swagger and stalk in their dancing as Sebastian sang about picking his heart up off the floor, and the other girls were beginning to get the idea. When he practically groaned, _"'Cause I gotta have faith,"_ the girls exploded into action, improvised choreography that intimidated Tyler and he wasn't even the one it was aimed at.

New Directions didn't stay out of it either. Most of them filled in the harmonies and echoed Sebastian's _"Faith, f-faith, f-faith,"_ helping to drive the rhythm along. Two of them however, an asian boy and a blonde girl, joined the dance. They weren't as predatory as the Slayers, but they were skilled enough to make up for it.

Sweet Sixteen fought back, though. Their choreography protected the four girls who still had heart shards, and there was something else about their movement that bothered Tyler. He spared a moment to wish that Robert would hurry up his check-in call with the researchers and get into the auditorium. The Fairmont girls were up to something magical, he was almost sure of it, and Tyler didn't have the experience to know what it was.

On cue, the stage door opened. Unfortunately instead of Robert, a curly-haired man stepped in. Seeing Blaine he did a double-take and hurried up to him. "Are you alright?" he asked. Sounding genuinely concerned. "Puck said something about a heart problem?"

Blaine gave him a tight smile. "It's not what you think, Mr Schue," he said tiredly. "Anyway, Mr Jensen and his colleagues have taken good care of me. And Kurt."

Tyler quickly switched on a smile and introduced himself to Will Schuester, doing his best to distract from Blaine's ambiguous statement. "Kurt's just wowed them with _Wicked,_" he added. "I think he's more angry than anything now."

Schuester looked out at the hugely stylised fight happening on stage and goggled. "What is going on?" he demanded. "We were never told to rehearse for anything like this."

"It had already started by the time I got here," Tyler admitted. "I don't know why the judges haven't stopped it." Schuester's words had however reminded him that Summertime Sisters had rehearsed something that would slot nicely into this musical battle. He caught Pippa's eye and signalled to her. She grinned viciously and nodded.

Blaine's grin was just as vicious, if rather weaker. "The Fairmont Academy girls have been trying to take out the opposition," he said. "I think everyone is upset with them."

"Totally pissed," Dave confirmed.

Schuester did another double-take. "David," he said. "Not that it isn't good to see you, but what are you doing here?"

Dave looked briefly panicked, then visibly nerved himself up. "I came with Sebastian," he said.

"Oh." Schuester didn't seem to know what to make of that. "I guess it's good he has some friends here." He didn't sound very sure of that.

Dave closed his eyes. "No, Señor Schue," he said, "I'm his boyfriend."

Schuester opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. "Well, that explains a few things," he said eventually. "Congratulations, Dave. If you ever need a sympathetic ear..."

"Uh, thanks," Dave said quickly, looking frankly terrified at the prospect. Schuester looked relieved.

Meanwhile Chrissie had taken to stalking Maura. At the moment the two of them were circling each other in the centre of the stage, Chrissie looking disturbingly like Faith. As Sebastian hit the chorus again, she struck like lightning and a small box Tyler hadn't even noticed fell to the floor. A perfectly timed foot sweep sent the box skidding over the Giselle, who stamped hard on it. A thin stream of white mist flowed from the splintered wood over to Finn, whose look of alarm as it slipped into his mouth turned into a broad grin.

"What was that?" Schuester asked.

"Finn just got his voice back," Blaine said, giving Schuester an odd look. "Didn't I say the Fairmont girls were trying to take us out?"

"Yes, but..." Schuester broke off as Sebastian finished his last _"Faith, F-faith, F-faith."_ Pippa only let one beat of silence pass before launching into song herself. Clever girl, starting with the pre-chorus, Tyler thought as the Slayers joined in harmony and the other choirs artfully disguised their pick-ups. It kept the momentum going.

_"All those things I didn't say,"_ she sang accusingly,  
_"Wrecking balls inside my brain,  
I will scream them loud tonight.  
Can you hear my voice this time?"[4]_

_"This is my fight song,"_ the Slayers thundered.

"Wow," Schuester said, automatically taking a step back from the angry, determined choreography Tyler hadn't really meant for this situation. He didn't care; it was working and intimidating the hell out of Sweet Sixteen, that was all that mattered.

"Totally pissed," Dave repeated, awed. They all were, Tyler realised. As Pippa took the verse, the three choirs were weaving their own anger into the song in different ways. The second time they hit the chorus, New Directions were singing _Amazing Grace_ as a counter-melody and the Warblers were murmuring _"Faith, F-faith, F-faith,"_ as they drove the rhythm on.

At the line, _"Take back my life song,"_ Marnie, Berta and the two New Directions dancers lunged at the Fairmont girls then turned away, red gems held high. It was beautifully synchronised, and Tyler had to remind himself again that this was all improvised. He should be suspicious; he knew his girls, and much as he loved them they weren't normally this creative and in tune with the performance. In fact he was suspiciously accepting, a thought that made him go cold.

"Something's wrong," he said as the kids danced over to hand Blaine the pieces of his heart. "This is all too good." The others looked at him blankly. "They're all improvising like crazy, but no one's fluffed a single thing," he tried.

Dave shrugged. "That's just how Glee rolls," he said.

Blaine nodded and turned his attention to the gem-like pieces of his heart. As Pippa repeated the chorus he joined in, his voice growing stronger with each line:

_"This is my fight song,  
Take back my life song,  
Prove I'm alright song.  
My power's turned on.  
Starting right now I'll be strong.  
I'll play my fight song..."_

The gems glowed and reformed into a single ruby red lump with an audible click. "Oh, that's better," Blaine breathed. He started to pull his thin black and red top up.

"Wait," Tyler said quickly. "Blaine, we don't know what the right thing to do is. Wait til Robert gets back."

"What on earth?" Schuester said, catching sight of the gaping hole in Blaine's chest. "What happened to you?"

Blaine smiled thinly. "Don't worry, Mr Schue," he said, "it's handled." He popped the heart gem into the hole in his chest despite Tyler's protests. His flesh rapidly healed over the gap, and he straightened up and smiled nastily. "They'll pay for what they've done."

Schuester looked at Tyler, clearly hoping for an explanation that would make sense. Tyler sighed. "Like he said," he admitted, "the Fairmont girls have been trying to take out the opposition. They haven't exactly been using orthodox methods."

"Yes, but..." Schuester watched Blaine slip onto the stage to join New Directions. He looked lost.

Tyler sympathised with his confusion. "They wanted to steal his talent," he said as calmly as he could. "I'm honestly surprised he's still alive. We aren't usually that lucky with people kidnapped for rituals."

"You knew about this?"

"About Sweet Sixteen?" Tyler shook his head. "We just came here for Sectionals. The supernatural, though, that's what we were set up to deal with."

Schuester would have asked more, but that was the moment that _Fight Song_ finished up. _"I've still got a lot of fight left in me,"_ Pippa sang, sneering at her opposite number.

Maura didn't give her a chance to walk away. Shifting to the minor she sang, _"You with the mad eyes."_ The lighting switched to something harsher, more unforgiving, adding to Tyler's sense of unease at how smoothly the whole performance was going. Worse, Blaine staggered back a couple of steps, his hand going to his heart. Clearly Sweet Sixteen's hold on his performance skills wasn't fully broken.

"Oh my," Schuester murmured. "That's certainly a different take."

There was no argument about that. _True Colours[5]_ in its original form was all about standing up for yourself, how the real you was a beautiful person if only you'd let others see. What Maura was singing was the complete opposite; exposing the 'true colours' of the other choirs as something shameful.

"They're turning the audience," Tyler told the others, "trying to break our morale. We need a confidence booster before people start seeing the kids as villains." The Summertime Sisters were already looking feral, while the Dalton boys retreated into privilege and the McKinley kids were hesitating, confused.

"That's not a problem," Schuester said. "Finn and Rachel have never lacked self-belief. They believed in the glee club when I had given up ever getting it started." He managed to catch Blaine's eye, nodding towards Finn and Rachel. Blaine smiled and relaxed a little. After a breath, he set to work spreading some message around New Directions.

"They're doing something else too," Tyler commented. He could practically feel the magic that the Fairmont girls were raising, presumably for whatever the previous songs had prevented them from doing. Tyler had no idea what that was, but it couldn't be good. Unfortunately the Slayers didn't seem to be able to interfere while Maura was singing.

_"Now we see your true colours shining through,"_ she sang.  
_"We see your true colours,  
They don't lie about you.  
You should be ashamed to let them show,  
Your true colours,  
Your true colours betray you.  
They betray you..."_

Maura let the song trail off to a single accusatory note. There was silence for a few seconds before a soft bass line started up, pulling the mood back into a major key. When it started to repeat, a familiar accompaniment joined in. Blaine swept forward as the music New Directions were making slowly grew in confidence and volume.

"We know who we are," Blaine said calmly, effortlessly commanding the stage. "We've always know that, and we aren't ashamed of where we've come from." He timed it perfectly, surrendering the stage to Rachel just as she began to sing. She hit it perfectly, all youth and aching hope, ignoring Sweet Sixteen and singing straight to the audience.

_"Just a small town girl[6]  
Living in a lonely world.  
She took the midnight train going anywhere."_

Finn took up the melody, honest and longing.

_"Just a city boy,  
Born and raised in south Detroit.  
He took the midnight train going anywhere."_

Tyler couldn't help but grin as they duetted their way towards the chorus. Everyone was singing with such rawness and emotion, not hiding anything. The Dalton kids acknowledged their privilege, the Slayers their warrior calling, New Directions... there were so many conflicting desires and emotions there Tyler didn't know where to start. It didn't matter. All of them were united in their belief in the power of music, their sheer joy in singing.

_"Don't stop believing,"_ all three choirs sang, three very different styles of singing blending seamlessly into one. Their honesty and enthusiasm all but pushed the Fairmont girls off the stage.

"Wow," Tyler breathed as Sebastian and Pippa took the second verse.

Schuester smiled proudly. "They don't know how to stop," he said. "None of them."

The words made Tyler twitch, but before he could say anything the stage door opened and Robert and Tim slipped inside. Robert opened his mouth to say something but shut it again when he noticed Schuester. Tim only had eyes for the stage. "Uh, Ty," he said, "I don't remember the girls rehearsing that."

"We didn't," Tyler said darkly. "I'm getting a bit concerned at the ease with which everyone has been improvising _a capella._ They had three songs mashed together a few minutes ago, and not one note out of place. I think music's coming a bit too easily to people around here."

Robert looked worried at that, but masked it quickly as he turned towards Schuester. "I'm sorry, we should introduce ourselves. I'm Robert Johnson, Tyler's rehearsal accompanist, and this is Tim Speedle, his partner."

Schuester didn't react at all to that last announcement, which Tyler really should have expected given that two of his singers were a gay couple. Instead, Schuester gestured towards the stage and asked, "So you know about all this...?"

"Insanity?" Tim offered helpfully.

"Magic," Schuester corrected, a little desperately. "Magic and rituals and... Oh God, one of my kids stuck a heart-shaped jewel into a hole in his chest. What am I supposed to do about that?"

Robert swore. "It was still crystal when he put it in?"

"Yeah," Tyler said, grimacing. "I told him to wait, but you know teenagers. His chest healed up immediately, so I'm guessing we can't undo whatever's happened."

"Not without ripping it out again," Robert said grimly, "and maybe not even then." He swore again.

Schuester rounded on him. "You aren't doing that," he said fiercely.

"We aren't," Robert agreed, "but there will be consequences." When Schuester continued to glare at him, he elaborated. "He has a hard heart now, and in magic symbolism is everything."

"It is in music too," Schuester said. He began to pace, clearly thinking hard.

_"Don't stop!"_ the three choirs finished in triumphant harmony, the Fairmont girls ignored and all but irrelevant. Tyler expected the audience to burst into applause — you could argue about who had won, but Fairmont had clearly lost. Instead a drumming started up, driving and angry. Tyler couldn't help shuddering.

"It's not coming from the sound system," he said.

Tim shuddered too. "Low frequency harmonics," he explained. "They trigger a fear response. This can't be good."

Sweet Sixteen were stalking forward now, reclaiming at least some of the stage. They couldn't push the others back far, but it was enough to get them back in the fight.

"Very not good," Robert agreed. He was staring at something Tyler couldn't see in the opposite wing. Tyler was still surprised when Angelique Lebrun walked on stage, and boy did she look pissed.

_"There's a fire starting in my heart,"[7]_ she sang over the drums. _"Reaching a fever pitch and its bringing me out the dark."_ Blaine gave a choked cry and collapsed, clutching at his chest. Kurt was quickly kneeling at his side, fussing helplessly as Finn and Puck tried to make themselves a barrier between Blaine and the angry woman.

"We have to do something," Tyler muttered. He wasn't any too clear as to what, but Angelique seemed like a whole different level of threat to her daughter. She had more power, and it was currently focused on the people best able to attack her, sapping their energy. Tyler stepped forward with vague ideas of drawing her attention, giving Blaine a moment to recover, but bounced off an invisible wall. Beside him, Schuester too flailed in surprise as he failed to get on stage.

Robert poked at the invisible barrier. "Some kind of ward," he said. "I think..." He took a breath. "I think they've made a sealed arena. No one can get in or out until this is over."

"Break it down," Tim ordered.

"I don't think I can."

Tyler looked on helplessly as Angelique pushed the boys aside like they were nothing. She spared a contemptuous glance for Kurt before grasping Blaine by the chin.

_"We could have had it all,  
Rolling in the deep.  
You had my heart inside of your hand  
And you played it to the beat."_

As she belted out the chorus, Sweet Sixteen ground out the background threats, moving menacingly towards the other choirs. Trying to isolate Blaine, Tyler realised. Blaine, whose face was twisted in agony and who was trying to stop Angelique clawing at his chest. She wanted to rip his heart out on stage, and there was nothing Tyler could do about it. Even Kurt, kneeling right there with his boyfriend, couldn't seem to physically do more than whisper to Blaine.

"Sing it!" Blaine screamed as the chorus ended.

Kurt looked startled for a moment, but climbed back to his feet. When Angelique started the next verse, Kurt sang too. His voice was weak and uncertain, but grew in confidence as first Puck and then Giselle and Sebastian joined in. As they sang, as the choirs responded, Blaine grew visibly stronger.

"They're reclaiming the song," Schuester breathed. Always before, one side of this bizarre battle had got to do its piece before the other had done more than backing vocals. This time, Tyler thought, Schuester was right. They were all singing the same song, but three against one. Sweet Sixteen were stronger than a single choir had any right to be, but the others were arrayed for battle now, and Adele's furious break-up song was so much more appropriate for what had been done to Blaine.

"They haven't got any defences against Lebrun's magic," Robert said worriedly, "and she's got a lot of power."

"No, look at Blaine," Tyler told him. Blaine was standing now, singing with laser-like focus at Angelique. Whatever she had been using to empower her ritual, he was fighting it. He wasn't winning, not yet anyway, but he had forced her away.

Behind him, the Slayers danced and sang in a loose skirmish line. They were protecting the others, not that Tyler thought they needed protecting any more. The Warblers were following Sebastian's lead, angrily pouring out energetic choreography and dazzling harmonies. New Directions leapt off that solid foundation with driving countermelodies and wild flights of ornamentation. All of it was aimed relentlessly at Angelique Lebrun, and she clearly knew it.

"He's channelling them," Tyler said. "I don't know how, but Blaine's taking all that emotion, all that music, and somehow he's using it against Lebrun."

"Channelling," Robert breathed. "Of course. You were right, Mr Schuester. Music is a kind of magic."

_"You played it, you played it, you played it, you played it to the beat,"_ the choirs sang, all of them hitting the climax hard. With each repetition of 'played' Angelique's hands shoved out towards Blaine and Blaine's shoved back, and blue and red lights exploded between them. There was a moment of silence as they stood there panting at each other, then Angelique drew herself up.

"You think music will save you?" she sneered at Blaine. Then she threw back her head and shouted, **"MR SWEET!"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YouTube links to the songs (message me if these links go stale!):
> 
> [1] [You Can't Stop The Beat](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZnt-0fEiT0) from Hairspray. Need I say more? Really? Possibly John Travolta's greatest role, that's all I'm saying.
> 
> [2] [What Is This Feeling?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nFa0E_GwJ30) (aka Loathing) from Wicked. I'm fond the snippet that Peter Hollens and Nick Pitera do in their Wicked medley, but I thought I'd give you the whole song. Apologies about the spelling of the lyrics; they aren't my doing!
> 
> [3] [Faith](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Cs3Pvmmv0E) by George Michael. This is the song that caused this whole story. That's right, it's all George's fault.
> 
> [4] [Fight Song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xo1VInw-SKc) by Rachel Platten. The idea of the mash-up comes from the [Piano Guys' cover,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mOO5qRjVFLw) which has Amazing Grace being played by a pipe band. If you use your imagination you can hear "Faith, f-faith, f-faith" in the drums.
> 
> [5] Sorry, but you're going to have use your imaginations on this. Also you're going to have to get used to my British spelling. Tough. [True Colours](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWPaRRCbXQA) by Cyndi Lauper (well, Billy Steinberg and Tom Kelly, but she was the first performer), here as performed by a Barbershop Chorus, is a lovely, supportive song. What Sweet Sixteen did, apart from mess around with the words, was to change it from a bright, positive major key into a darker, sadder minor key, like was done to [Take Me Home, Country Roads here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lsPwrxiZA04)
> 
> [6] [Don't Stop Believing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1FaJshIWdpU) by Journey. The original Glee version. You expected something else? The version in the text switches Finn and Rachel's solos, which makes more sense for what they're doing.
> 
> [7] [Rolling in the Deep](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYEDA3JcQqw) by Adele, of course. I'm a heathen; I prefer instrumental covers of this song, particularly the versions by the [Piano Guys](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lUjWJSnGVB0) and [Simply Three,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tt2NIDtp-Ls) even if the latter don't do the weird raised six in the accompaniment of the first line of the chorus.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once more, with feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More song information in the end notes. Never say fanfiction isn't educational.

**"MR SWEET!"**

Tyler swore softly. He'd read the report on Sweet's visit to Sunnydale. It had been deliberately vague about a lot of things, but Tyler had understood enough to know that Sweet had left because he decided to, not because Buffy had in any sense won. If Lebrun managed to summon him...

A jazz band struck up out of nowhere, killing Tyler's hopes. A spotlight stabbed down into the auditorium, illuminating the judges — or rather the judges' table, where Sweet sat in his red-skinned glory, flanked by two charred corpses. _"All these melodies,[1]_ he sang, relaxed and grinning, _"I think I like your style."_ In one smooth move he stood, slid over the table and stood nonchalantly at the top of the stairs down to the stage. Screams of fear came from the audience.

_"No use worrying,"_ Sweet told them, _"just watch the action with a great big smile."_

Tyler found a smile fighting its way onto his face despite his best efforts. "Robert?" he whispered as Sweet tap-danced down the stairs, still singing his amusement.

"Not on my best day," Robert whispered back.

"The fuck?" Dave asked, obviously struggling against a grin himself.

"Demon," Tim said tersely. "Bad one. His favourite trick is to make people dance so fast they spontaneously combust."

Sweet was on stage now, sliding in between Blaine and Lebrun. _"'Cause I know what you feel, kid,"_ he sang to Angelique, chucking her under the chin. Laughing at her outraged expression, he turned to Blaine. _"I know just what you feel, kid,"_ he sang again. Blaine paled as he danced backwards in perfect sync with the demon. Tyler didn't think he intended to do it.

Sebastian thrust a hand between Sweet and Blaine, and the music cut abruptly. A single piano started up in a major key, at odds with the firm expression on Sebastian's face.

_"Life's a show,"_ he sang softly.[2]  
_"And when the day is done  
We reckon up who won  
And claim we all had fun."_

"Sebastian, no!" Blaine hissed.

_"Life's a game  
We play until we die.  
We cannot reach the sky  
And never question why,"_ Sebastian sang. He looked startled at the words coming out of his mouth.

_"I know what you feel, kid,"_ Sweet murmured, grinning maniacally.

Tyler felt a chill run down his back. "Shit," he said as Sebastian sang and danced his self-loathing. He should have guessed from the scene in the hospital that the kid was one of those people whose don't-give-a-shit attitude hid a mass of issues.

"What?" Dave asked thickly. His eyes were wide with fear.

"Sweet's got him," Robert said grimly, "and everyone on stage is spellbound." Tyler could see at least some of the Slayers trying to get to Sebastian, but something was holding them in place. Sebastian himself was dancing faster and faster, eyes wide in panic.

"No," Dave whispered unsteadily. He stepped forward, only to hit the ward sealing off the stage. "No," he said more loudly, and started pushing with all his might.

"Dave," Tyler said gently. Smoke was rising from Sebastian now, and this was going to suck so badly for Dave. Tyler remembered the emptiness he had felt, and he hadn't seen Tim die.

"You can't have him!" Dave screamed. Just for a moment he had everyone's attention, and then... The best way Tyler could describe it was an anti-explosion. There was a discordant squawk in the music for a moment before a heavy silence hit the stage. By the time the pressure lifted and Tyler could hear again, Dave was wrapped tightly around Sebastian, preventing him from dancing. And thank God, Tyler thought, Sebastian was still alive. Scared and smoking gently, but still alive.

"Ain't that a turn up for the books," Sweet said. He looked at the pair curiously.

Blaine straightened up. "Never underestimate the power of love," he declared. He hand found Kurt's, and as it did so the unseen band struck up again. Huey Lewis and the News,[3] Tyler was glad to hear — Frankie Goes To Hollywood's _Power of Love[4]_ had incredibly appropriate lyrics, but was way too slow for a fight. He should probably be more worried that he thought something like that completely seriously, but that was his life nowadays.

The stage erupted into choreographed chaos. Sweet stepped back, aloof and amused as the Warblers pulled Dave and Sebastian into the middle of a very prickly defensive formation. Meanwhile New Directions took up the song, which Blaine again seemed to be channelling, and the Slayers leapt forward to take down Sweet Sixteen this time — and damn it, Tyler really should have paid more attention to their name. He should have been paying more attention to them too, because the Fairmont girls weren't girls anymore. They looked like smaller versions of Sweet now, still obviously female but with bright red skin and diabolical smiles. They danced with more skill than they had before, knocking the Slayers back.

They needed a way to get the Slayers' fighting skills into this, Tyler thought. Something that would work as dance. He grinned. "Use your kata," he yelled across the stage. Kata were so dance moves, as he'd often teased the martial arts instructors.

"Woah," Schuester said. He was looking down at Tyler's feet. When Tyler looked down too, he noticed that he must have stepped forwards without realising it. The barrier was gone.

"Of course David broke the warding," Robert said drily. "How do you think he got on stage?"

"Then what are we waiting for?" Schuester asked. Without waiting for an answer, he danced into the fight. Tyler shrugged and followed him, ignoring Tim's concerned shout. He might be rusty, but he did have professional dance training. He could do this.

A minute later, he had to admit that he couldn't do much more than be a distraction. He and Schuester were facing down the demonic Angelique Lebrun and getting approximately nowhere. They were scoring little symbolic victories in their dance, but Lebrun seemed to be shrugging them off. The other demons were being knocked back dramatically whenever a Slayer's slow-motion moves connected, but mere mortals like Tyler just didn't have that kind of power.

Tyler was just contemplating calling in help when someone hit Lebrun from behind with a fire extinguisher. "Hello, Sweetie," snarled a woman in a tracksuit.

Schuester stepped back uncertainly. "Uh, Sue," he began.

"Quiet, children," the woman interrupted. "I want a long-overdue word with Angie here. You don't get away with costing Sue Sylvester what would have been my third cheerleading trophy."

Demon-Lebrun took one look at the vengeful woman and quick-stepped away. "Come back here, you miserable excuse for a demon," Sylvester shouted, and cartwheeled after her. Tyler noticed several of the New Directions girls break off to follow.

Schuester shook his head. "Every time I think I understand that woman," he said wonderingly.

"Should we help her?" Tyler asked uncertainly.

"She'd skin us alive for getting in the way," Schuester told him. He looked around the stage. "Uh-oh," he said.

Uh-oh indeed. Two of the demons had managed to slip around the Slayers. One of them was menacing the Dalton defensive line, and even as Tyler watched it tossed two boys aside to have a clear shot at Sebastian. As it posed in synchronisation with the music, Dave intercepted it. He grabbed it by the wrist, and the demon just stopped moving. Sebastian snarled at it. The next moment he was wringing his hand out, hair and clothing dishevelled. "I hit it a dozen times," he complained, "why won't it go down?"

"Seb?" Dave hesitated and let go of the demon. It crumpled to the floor. Dave ignored it, moving back to Sebastian's side to tend to his bruised fist, and that was basically all Tyler could see as the Warblers closed ranks around them again.

The other demon, meanwhile, was making straight for Blaine. Puck was trying to hold it back, but it was a fight he was clearly losing. "Finn," he shouted as Tyler and Schuester made their way over. "Get your uncoordinated ass over here."

Finn was there quickly, and boy could Tyler see what Puck mean about him being uncoordinated. Finn could just about walk in time to the beat, but his footwork was sloppy and his arms were everywhere. Somewhere, Tyler's old dance teacher had just burst into tears without having any idea why.

"I can't hit a girl," Finn protested, dodging as the demon reached for him. "My Mom's in the audience."

"They're not girls right now," Tyler observed. He slid forward as a feint and was ignored. On the far side of the boys, Schuester did the same thing a beat later. Finn hesitated, still clearly torn.

"Dude, they tried to kill Rachel," Puck said to him. "They'll try again if we let them."

That seemed to do the trick. Finn's face hardened in resolve, and this time when Schuester and Puck launched their real — well, choreographed — attack, the demon twisted aside only to have Finn's fist collide with its jaw. It wasn't a pretty move, it didn't fit the dance at all, but it dropped the demon in its tracks. Tyler tried to kick it in the head just to make sure it stayed down, but he couldn't make the moves fit. The best he could force his body to do was a symbolic stamp that left his foot resting lightly on the demon's back. It twitched underneath him and lay still.

_"Aren't you the interesting one?"_ Sweet sang, winding his words into the rock ballad. He glided up to Finn, staring intently at the teenager. Tyler and Schuester move up protectively but Sweet shoved his arms out as if pushing them away, and the next thing Tyler knew he was flying through the air, gasping for breath.

Pippa caught him before he landed, which probably saved him from some broken bones. Tyler spared a moment to hope someone had caught Schuester. While he tried to get his breathing under control again, he could only watch as Sweet played with Finn.

The amazing thing was that Finn was still upright. Oh, the Slayers launching themselves at Sweet in twos and threes helped to distract the demon, but mostly Finn was managing to dodge. Sweet's fists and feet were lashing out at where Finn should have been if he had any feel for the dance at all, but the incredibly uncoordinated teenager just wasn't there. He moved at the wrong time, he swayed forwards instead of back, he tripped over his own feet... Tyler had never seen anything like it. It went far beyond a lack of talent; Finn could not be more out of sync with the music if he was trying.

Sweet kept this up for maybe half a minute before he stepped back. He laughed loudly and held up his hands. The music and dance stopped instantly.

_"Clever plan there, kid,"[1]_ Sweet sang, _"kinda makes me smile."_ Finn looked confused.

_"Seeing something new,  
Let's just say it's been quite a while.  
Cursed to dance with no grace to mention,  
That's a pretty neat first-time invention."_

Sweet turned to Blaine. _"Just not good enough,"_ he sang, _"not by a mile."_

"But I didn't," Blaine began. Sweet ignored him, just clapped his hands with a deafening boom. When Tyler's head stopped ringing, he saw Sweet coming out of a spin, arm extending to deliver a symbolic slap that would have the strength of a wrecking ball behind it.

Finn blocked it. His left arm just drifted up until Sweet's right stopped against it, as if it really was nothing more than a dance move. The two of them blinked at each other in surprise over a loud scream from the audience, then the unseen orchestra struck up again and they exploded into action[5].

Tyler got unsteadily back to his feet, but found that moving was tricky now. The music was in a vigorous seven time unhelpfully divided into a lopsided five, and not tripping over that last short beat was really hard. Only a handful of people on stage were managing to stay upright, never mind make any progress. Even the demons were finding it hard going.

Sweet and Finn were moving with unerring precision. Sweet advanced with jazz moves and what had to be some kind of florid martial art, perfectly in time with the music. But for all Finn was forced back, he blocked or dodged everything Sweet threw at him. From being the clumsiest person on stage just moments ago, he had become one of the most natural dancers Tyler had ever seen. Panicked as his movements were, they were exactly in time with the awkward beat.

It couldn't last. The beginning of the end was when Marnie and Berta tried to help. They glided up to the fight in what Tyler was thinking of as an extended box step, but Sweet was far too fast for them. As they stepped forward, he threw his hands out towards them. His open palms never actually touched the girls but the symbolic strike was enough to send them flying across the stage. Finn tried to take advantage of the distraction by doing the same thing to Sweet. It was enough to rock the demon, but that was all, and Finn was too slow to pull back. Sweet moved swiftly, and suddenly Finn was on the ground, dazed.

"Touchdown," Sweet crowed. He raised a fist ready to deliver a devastating blow to the teenager.

**"Stop!"**

The shout had power behind it, enough to silence the music and stop everyone in their tracks. Tyler turned to see a woman standing on stage with them, looking very out of place in her denim vest. She was unsteady on her feet after whatever magic she had just done, but she faced Sweet defiantly. "Leave him alone," she demanded.

Sweet straightened up and smirked. "Ah, the beautiful Carole," he crooned. Surprisingly no music started up. "You were so much more fun last time."

"That was seventeen years ago," Carole said angrily. "Before my son was born." Sweet raised an eyebrow.

"Mom?" Finn said, his confusion evident. Sweet looked from him to Carole Hudson-Hummel and visibly started putting two and two together. It wasn't hard given what they had just seen, Tyler thought. He would bet anything that Sweet and Finn's mother had met nine months before Finn was born.

"You should leave," she told Sweet.

His grin grew. "You cursed him," he purred. "You took all this away from my son."

"I protected my son," Carole blazed. "Once I realised what my attempt to save Maddie had done, I knew I had to hide him from you." She shook her head. "All those queens and no children, did you think no one would ask?"

Sweet's grin somehow grew wider. "If only you'd been the one to summon me," he said. "You have such beautiful hatred. Oh, the music we could have made together."

"Dude, that's my Mom you're talking about." Finn scrambled to his feet, backing off a little but still careful to keep between Sweet and his mother. Sweet looked at him a little sadly.

"I would have given you greatness," he declaimed.

"You would have killed him," Carole shot back, "so that he couldn't kill you."

"I still could," Sweet said. His grin was back and less sincere than ever.

"Except now the Kindly Ones know about you," Carole told him. "They take a dim view of kinslayers. They would tear you to pieces and I would help. I think that would count as 'the flesh of your flesh will destroy you,' don't you?"

The determination in her voice shook Tyler. That she would think about invoking something as primal as the Furies, becoming their mortal sister and losing everything for revenge... Well, he reflected, a mother might do that for her son.

Sweet certainly believed her. He took a step back, and as he did so the stage lights dimmed, leaving him in a bright spotlight. "Time to go, girls," he called out. He walked towards the back of the stage, the vague shapes of his minions following him. Then he turned and looked over his shoulder.

"Before I go," he said, and Carole's shoulders slumped as the music started again.[1]

_"You should know me boy,  
Know what your momma hid.  
All the drama caused,  
The things you never knew you did.  
All those secrets folk keep a-spillin'  
Wouldn't happen if you weren't so willin'  
One last thing to say:"_

He winked, and the music abruptly stopped.

"Here's looking at you, kid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Almost all of what Sweet does is based off [his song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-XDjqRlwOPs&t=96s) in "Once More With Feeling." Not much creativity in major demons!
> 
> [2] This is a variation on [Give Me Something To Sing About](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sv8uRVLN5Dc), Buffy's song confronting Sweet. Draw what conclusions you may from that.
> 
> [3] [The Power Of Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KCkgYhtz64U) obviously.
> 
> [4] [The Power Of Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NyoTvgPn0rU). Just listen to those lyrics.
> 
> [5] I have no particular music in mind for this, just the really awkward beat. For those who know their music this is four dotted crochets (quarter notes) followed by a normal crotchet. For those who don't know their music, repeatedly count this fast: ONE two three, TWO two three, THREE two three, FOUR two three, FIVE two.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not over until the fat lady sings. Except Rachel's not fat, of course.

Tyler panicked briefly when the spotlight died, leaving the stage in darkness. Moments later the house lights came up, and he could breathe again. A smattering of applause started up, quickly turning to gasps and screams as people noticed the judges' bodies. Within seconds the crowd was rushing for the exits in a panicky, disorganised mob.

Schuester stepped forward, looking like he was going to address them. "Don't," Tyler said, grabbing him by the arm. "Let them get out of here while everything's confused. We can tell them later that there was a release of hallucinogenic gas in the auditorium, or something like that."

"They'll believe it," Tim added as he and Robert joined them, "despite the fact that hallucinogens don't work like that." He grimaced in disgust.

"But the police..." Schuester trailed off. He had probably just realised how insane the truth would sound to the average police officer.

"It sucks, I know," Tyler told him. "Tim and I used to work for Miami PD and neither of us much like keeping the cops out of this. Unfortunately not many of them can handle the supernatural."

"We're going to have to call them in all the same," Tim said unhappily. "Sweet took his coven with him when he vanished. That's way too many families with way too much money to keep it quiet."

"What do we tell them?" Schuester asked.

"Anything you like," Tyler said. "It would be weird if we all hallucinated the same thing."

"We have more urgent things to worry about right now," Robert said, nodding to where Finn and his mother were hugging the stuffing out of each other.

"Mom," Finn said thickly as he finally pulled himself away. "You knew about all this stuff? And that guy, Sweet?"

Carole nodded. "Before my mother died, she taught me what she knew about magic. The Old Ways, she used to call it. I was never much good at it—"

"Ma'am," Robert interrupted, "you derailed a significant demon in his element. Not many people could do that."

"I was ready for him," Carole said with a grimace.

"Even so..."

"You knew about him, Mom?" Finn demanded. "And what was all that stuff he was saying about me?" His confusion was taking on a slightly hysterical tinge.

"My best friend, Madeleine Price, found out about the magic," Carole sighed. "Your grandmother left me her books when she died, and Maddie came across them. She tried out a ritual to summon up a spirit of song and dance because it sounded like fun. It wasn't so much fun when people started dancing themselves to death."

Tyler winced. It would have been an easy mistake to make if the book hadn't had much information about Sweet in it. Not a mistake anyone used to the supernatural should make — these things always seem to have some nasty catch in them — but for someone with no experience of demons or spirits, he could see how Maddie Price could have thought that way.

Robert seemed to be feeling less generous. "I imagine it became even less fun when you discovered the rest of the cost," he said with more frosty watcheriness than Tyler had ever heard him use.

"He was going to take Maddie away as his queen," Carole agreed. "I tried to distract him, give her time to get away. I didn't think..." She trailed off unhappily.

"Mrs H," Puck said, eyes wide. "That's the most badass thing I've ever heard, and I've heard a lot today."

"What?" Finn demanded.

"It didn't matter anyway," Carole said before Puck could explain. "He caught up a few hours later, and..." She sighed. "And then you were born."

"What were you thinking?" Robert demanded.

"That anything I could do to help my best friend was worth it," Carole snapped back.

"And was it?" Robert blazed. "Were those extra few hours worth the life you've inflicted on your son?"

"Hey," Finn shouted, "don't talk to my Mom like that." He reached out to shove Robert away.

Dave Karofsky grabbed his wrist. "Hudson," he said urgently, "you need to cool it." He was staring wide-eyed at Robert, whose feet were tapping to a beat Tyler could almost hear.

"He's right, Finn," he said quickly. "You need to take a breath and calm yourself down. And you," he continued, turning to Robert, "need to stop poking bears."

"It proved my point, though," Robert said unrepentantly. "Finn here has inherited a good deal of power and has no idea how to use it."

"Inherited," Finn repeated, going straight back to hysteria. "Mom, is that true? Is that... guy... my dad?"

Carole pursed her lips angrily. "Sweet may have been the sperm donor, but he will never be a father to you. Your real father — my husband — loved you. Burt loves you now."

"Omigod," Finn whimpered, "I'm half demon."

"Finn, honey, it's all right," his mother said quickly. "It doesn't have to be any different. I can bind—"

"No you can't," Robert interrupted. "Two reasons." He held up one finger. "Young Finn is known to be Sweet's son now. That paints an awfully big target on his back. There will be times he will need those extra abilities to defend himself and his loved ones. And two," a second finger went up, "I'm betting you used something like the Rite of Enteri as a binding when he was a baby?"

Carole nodded. "It was the only thing that would work."

"You'd need a powerful casting now," Robert observed, "and it's black magic. It stains the soul."

"What?" Finn demanded, in full panic mode now. "No Mom, you can't do that. I won't let you."

"It's alright, Finn," Carole said, sweeping him into a hug. The glare she gave Robert over his shoulder said she knew as well as Tyler did that Robert had deliberately used her son against her.

"I think we all need to avoid making hasty decisions," Tyler said smoothly. "We're going to have a lot to do, all of us." He looked pointedly at Puck, and with more concern at Kurt and Blaine.

"I should leave," Finn said dully.

Puck smacked his arm. "Dude," he hissed, "what did Mr J literally just say?"

"You heard what Sweet said," Finn replied tiredly. "Even before all this, everyone in Glee was singing their feelings to anyone who'd listen. That's all on me."

"So we just have to be honest about shit," Puck argued. Sebastian wasn't the only one to snort.

"And now you're all in danger because of me," Finn continued. "I might accidentally make you dance your feet off or something. Or someone might hurt you to get at me, I dunno. I can't take that risk."

"That's not your risk to take," Rachel said. She stepped up to Finn and grabbed his hand. "It's our choice, and I'm not going anywhere any time soon."

"Nor am I," said Kurt.

"Ditto, bro," Puck affirmed. "We're your friends."

"It's not that simple," Finn insisted. "I don't get to have friends. I'm half demon, remember?"

"You're Finn Hudson," Rachel said firmly as New Directions began humming rich chords. "Sometimes it is just that simple." She took a step back from his and started singing.

_"We feel,[1]  
We hear,  
Your pain,  
your fear.  
But we're here  
To say  
Who you are  
is okay."_

"This is such bullshit," Tyler heard Sebastian murmur to Dave. Dave looked down at where Sebastian was holding his hand and raised an eyebrow.

"I mean it. I don't even like Hudson." The other eyebrow rose.

"I don't care what you think, I'm not some secret romantic." This time Dave smiled gently at Sebastian. Sebastian's cheeks coloured.

"You are going to be so bad for my reputation," Sebastian muttered, but he couldn't seem to avoid grinning at Dave. The two of them kissed briefly, then turned to join the singing. As if they were waiting for that cue, the rest of the Warblers and the Summertime Sisters filled out the chorus.

_"You have more friends than you know,  
Some who surround you,  
Some you are destined to meet.  
You'll have more love in your life,  
Don't let go.  
Give it time,  
Take it slow.  
Those who love you the most may need more time to grow.  
It's gonna be okay.  
You have more friends than you know."_

Tyler stepped back with the rest of the adults, letting Finn and Rachel slow dance as the choirs began the next verse. "We're going to have our work cut out for us," he observed quietly.

"I know," Robert groaned just as quietly. "We've got an untrained shaman, a witch in need of a refresher course in Wiccan ethics, a half-demon of considerable power, and I think young Blaine may be some sort of bard."

"Plus whatever Sebastian and Dave are," Tim noted. "And it looks like we have two glee clubs of kids who have decided not to forget all about this."

"You should worry about Sue Sylvester too," Schuester said. "I mean, it won't do any good, she's a law unto herself, but you should still worry about her."

"We're going to need Watchers in Lima and Westerville just to keep up with the kids' questions and stop them trying to recreate the Scoobies," Tyler mused. He grinned at Robert. "I wonder whether McKinley's going to need an American History teacher?" Robert scowled back.

"I'll help," Schuester said unexpectedly. At their looks he continued, "It's my fault those kids are here. I started the Glee Club, I pushed a lot of them into performing. I need to be there for them now."

Tim sighed. "It's not like we don't need the contacts," he said.

"So how do I become a Watcher?" Schuester asked.

Tyler couldn't help himself. "Mostly you have proud British ancestry and an unhealthy interest in dusty books," he said, grinning at Robert.

"Or you keep falling into supernatural situations until everyone else gets tired of bailing you out and forces you to learn for yourself," Robert fired back in his most disapproving Watcherly manner.

"So a lot like college," Tim said drily. "Seriously, thank you for the offer, but please don't put yourself at any risk. It's more important that you're there for these kids than you become an expert in obscure lore. You can always call us for that."

Schuester didn't look convinced, but he just sighed. "I guess we'll be seeing each other soon anyway," he said. "They're going to have to re-run the competition with new judges."

"More rehearsal time never hurts," Tyler said philosophically. Schuester gave him a sceptical look, which was fair enough; there was such a thing as over-rehearsing. "I kind of wish we didn't have to compete," Tyler explained. "They sound so good together."

"There's no reason we can't put on a combined concert sometime," Schuester said thoughtfully. "I could definitely sell that to Figgins. We should talk to whichever of the Dalton staff is nominally in charge of the Warblers."

"We should," Tyler agreed. He settled back to listen as the combined choirs oozed their way through the last few lines of rich harmonies.

The song was appropriate for all of them, he thought, not just Finn. They had all made new friends today, people who had helped them and in turn needed their help. And the world was a little bit brighter because of what they'd done.

It was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] [You Have More Friends Than You Know](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FHWR0zV4FjI). I know there's a Glee cover of this, but this version by Voctave is my benchmark now.


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beware the Principal cornering you in the staff lounge.

"Mister Jensen."

Tyler look up in surprise. "Principal Wood," he said cautiously. Robin was rarely that formal in the staff room.

"Would you perhaps know why I have been receiving queries from Dalton Academy students as to what the Watchers' Council is looking for in applicants?"

"Ah." Tyler really shouldn't have trusted Sebastian when he'd proposed to fill his fellow Warblers in about what had been going on around Sectionals. "Some Dalton students were involved in what went on in Lima. They may have a romantic view of what being a Watcher is like."

"Given how much they stress their financial independence, I doubt that 'romantic' is the right word." Robin didn't seem amused by the situation, Tyler thought with a sinking heart. He didn't know what exactly he'd done wrong to cause this, but he was sure Robin would find something.

"They're rich kids," Tim said, not looking up from the essay he was marking. "Talking about trust funds is romantic for some of them. Also, who taught the sophomores about pipe bombs? Someone's going to get hurt if we don't kerb their enthusiasm."

Robin ignored the attempted deflection. "There are also a distressing number of enquiries about testing for magical aptitude," he continued.

Tyler groaned as he realised what was going on. "They're jealous of the McKinley kids," he explained. "The supernatural world took them by surprise, and when the dust settled it seemed like all the magic is at McKinley. All they have is a boy who can run fast enough to give himself first degree wind-burn, and his boyfriend who can stop him. And Dave isn't really one of them."

"Imagine what the old-school Watchers would have done," Tim said, actually looking up from his marking this time. "They would have wanted to get control back any way they could."

Robin nodded thoughtfully. "So how do you propose to discourage that mind-set?" he asked Tyler.

"Me?" Robin's glare was uncompromising. Apparently he was a 'You broke it, you fix it' kind of guy. "Talk to them, I guess," Tyler said. He sat back to think about this a bit. "Drop some of the basic tomes on them. Invite them on boring patrols. All the stuff that isn't glamorous." All the stuff that had been done to him, in fact. "If there's actually something to investigate, have Tim go full CSI on them."

"Thanks," Tim said.

"Hey, most people get bored after an hour of inch-by-inch examination of a scene."

"Me included," Tim shot back. "You could mix them in with the McKinley kids, show them there's no favouritism."

"You saw them when we were searching the Lebrun place," Tyler objected. He lifted one hand. "Oil." He lifted the other. "Water. And that was just Puck and Sebastian."

"It's worth considering," Robin mused, "especially if they don't get on. Private schools such as Dalton offer academic excellence but inevitably foster a 'them and us' attitude. That's exactly what we don't want."

Tyler looked at him. "You just want me to suffer," he accused.

"You dropped more work on my desk," Robin told him, unperturbed. "Of course I want you to suffer."

"Let's see," Tyler said, ticking things off on his fingers. "You want me to pacify a bunch of whiny rich kids while I'm also helping a half-demon and a literally hard-hearted bard cope with their new-found powers, locate a shaman willing to teach a sometimes observant Jewish tearaway, teach English and IT, and run Glee Club? When am I supposed to sleep?"

"Sleep is an inadequate substitute for caffeine," Tim said, nose back in his marking. "Besides, you know you're going to drag in everyone who's been blatantly listening to this."

Tyler looked around the room at the Watchers who were suddenly finding all sorts of things totally fascinating. "I hate you all," he announced.

"On that cheerful note I will leave you to sort out who is doing what," Robin told the room in general. "I do have plenty of work of my own to be getting on with. Oh, and Mr Speedle, I think the pipe bombs can be blamed on computer games. I believe someone recently set up a Doom server?" He looked significantly at Tyler before leaving.

Tyler gave Tim what he hoped was a winning smile. It didn't seem to help.

"Ty," Tim growled.

"It was a training simulator?"


End file.
